You hid inside the library
(books of dust)
you were buried in the histories
(critics looked from the shelves)
You cried under their watching eyes
(the authors took up their pens)
You read a story of elephants
(the hills weren't bleeding)
 
We left holding our books too tight
(bleeding words)
I talked into the falling leaves
(their colors were wasted)
We trudged six feet underground
(stumbling on the rocks)
Snow fell over the broken wall
(the symbols are thick in here)
 
(chorus)
This is a meaning with no message
a message about stories
a story with no meaning--now
 
We tried talking like human beings
(I feel fine and you?)
About weather and important things
(cool, dense clouds)
Then when we got to Jessup Road
(where you once skinned your knee)
We fell into the blackest hole
(and we're falling still)
 
Chorus