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The Uneventful Vacation, Part 1

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Beauty is empty eyes Completely void of any warmth or light that complicates our sight Meaning succeeds itself and from the ashes raises new beliefs That I have never felt Doomed to fail, 'cause sound is directional And I'm the only one that hears it now And I'm the only one that is dead enough to not care, to not feel Now I hear it every night, silence seeps in through the windows I hear the hollows of your eyes and it becomes you It's a nothing that you can't hide It is all wrong Does this hurt? Abandon sense of "hands don't clap" to never be the same