I look into eyes, but I can't tell if they're mine. The words coming off my tongue feel like delicately polished, Practiced lines. In my head I know my face, But I haven't shown it for so long now, That I might now know how. Every day I'm someone else, someone different, But I swear that you could never tell that I'm hollow. I'm hollow. I fill the emptiness with things that aren't real, To see if I can feel less hollow, But I know it's only temporary. It's temporary. In my head I know my face, But I haven't shown it for so long now, That I might now know how. Every day I'm someone else, someone different, But I swear that you could never tell that I'm hollow.