Passing pictures, in a smoky room They're all so tired of themselves Passing moments, in a place I knew I put my heart back on the shelf It's not your vice, It's the signal that I feel Though it has broken From a device, It's the signal that I feel Has come unwoven Passing handshakes, as you pass it round You'll get higher by yourself Your shirt's on backwards, as you leave the room Where you'll get higher by yourself It's not your vice, It's the signal that I feel Though it has broken From a device, It's the signal that I feel Has come unwoven