Capítulo 4 de 4 --- I draw the line.

Camphor crossed with lace, it is the witching hour.
Cinematic but crude.
Teasing all my feelings out, you move away,
It seems so natural to you.

Still the siren climbing up her victory tower,
Like there's something left to prove.
I trap the beads of sweat that run between my eyes...
And free the fever to move.

I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the line,
I'm drawing the line, I draw the line
And I have my pride.

I'm taking control, I'm taking control,
I'm taking control, I'm taking control
And I save my soul.

I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out,
I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out
And I have no doubt.

Dreamt the sound of scissors cutting stitches out,
Then discarding the used.
Recording all my problems onto memory cards,
Your compassion unmoved.

Unto others what they always do to you
The most twisted of your rules.
Distill malaise and photograph the hole it leaves
Running out a copy for you.

I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the line,
I'm drawing the line, I draw the line
And I have my pride.

I'm taking control, I'm taking control,
I'm taking control, I'm taking control
And I save my soul.

I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out,
I'm shutting you out, I'm shutting you out
And I have no doubt.

I'm drawing the line, I'm drawing the line,
I'm drawing the line, I draw the line
And I have my pride.

I'm taking control, I'm taking control,
I'm taking control, I'm taking control
And I save my soul.