Shut my eyes and count to ten It goes in one ear out the other, one ear out the other Burning bright right till the e̡͡n͟͏d Now you'll be mi͟҉͞s̡̕s̷̢ìn̵̷g͡ from the phot̡o̵g҉rap͝h͞s҉, m͘͞͡i̵s̸s̵͢i̶̵n̸̴g̶ from the p͢h͠o̴t͟o͘g͟r͟ap͢hs
Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers In my thoughts yo̷u̶̷͟'re far away And you are whistling a melody, whistling a melody Crystallizing clear as day I can picture y̵͔̞̻̙̥̞̤͞o̴̮̻̜̟u̕҉̯̪̩̼ so easily, picture y̷̝̫̫̣̘o̵̭̳̘̥͙͚̙͠u̸̳̼̞͎ so easily
Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers Caught off guard by your favorite song I'll be d̞̳̯͙a̡̘̹̥͙̮̘̺ǹ͔ci̸͙̮n̢̤ͅg̩͠ ̶̞͍a̱̯͖̙̬̘͢t̹̤ ̞͝a̻͓̱̻̞̩ ̫̞̫͚̦f͏͈͙̜ụ̼̝̞͢ne̴ṛ̷͉͍a̲̣l̩͚̀, d͏̷̯̻͇̗͕̦́ą̴̟͉̼̳̩̠͚̻̤̠̀́n̸̶̼̠̮̗͉̗̫̠̰̱͡͞ç̵̛͙̥̟̯̝͉̙̖̤̞̭̕͢i̛̠͚̭̝̥̞̦̯̟̠͈̟̻̟͔͢n͏̸̰̖͓͖̖̤̩͔͔͓͖g̡̬̩̱̱̭͉̥͓̟̙̙͕̦͉̰̕ ̸̸͕͙͚̙̩̦̬̮͇͕͚͉͓̠ͅͅa̢̬͎͖̤͎̬̹̦̱̗͙̭͚̣͍͟ͅt҉̸͖̺͖̩̬̜̫̮̮̺̲̠͔͍̖͞ͅ ̺̦̖̣͕̖̣̻̬͉͚̬͜͝á̶͔̼̲̘̟̰̣̱͕͜͜ ̴̡̖͓̪̼̻̦̣̥̪̼̩̜̭͕͙̯͙̝̞̀f̴̧̛͔̮͚͇͎͕u̷̪͙͉̤̕͢͞n̨̡̞̻̮̳̬̹̰͟͡ẹ̡̢̛̭̘̠̗͓̰̯͜r̢̞̼͙̰͙̱̳͓̙̺͍̰̱͓̕͠a̧̨̭̗̞̪̲͙̮͙͈̕͘͠ĺ̶̮̘̠̬͚̩̘̹̗̦̕͡͞ Sleeping in the clothes you love It's such a s͖̪̫̺̮̭͓̦͍̕ẖ͕̦͔͖̼͈̬a̙̝͕̹̦̻̮̗͠m͕̠͈͕̙͘e͉͔͙̙̦̜̗̜͢͢ͅ ̭̥̮̹͖̮̪̜̯̀w̬̞̦̠͚e̢͉͕̬̯̙͕͇͈ ̸̜̣̻̫̩͕͠h̶͚̯̻̹̗͉a̸̛͔̭̣̼̳̺d̴̤͕̦̤ ̧̖̜̻̪̭̙̘̻t̢͏̴͇̘̯͍̪ò̫͝ ̴̶̨̞̤s͇̣̀ȩ̼͍͍̫̻͎e̡̲ ̝̮̯͚̤̟͘͞t͙̠̟̩̩͇h̵̖͇́é̡̤̬̹m͈͎̞͕͇ ̝͓̯̰̪b̴̻̘̹̰͙̗ṷ̧̺̖̬͖r̨̧̞̳̀ņ̢̥̫͕̬̰̹̩̟, s͕̗̘͖̬̜̼̝̗̰̭̟͍̭͞h̸̸̶̡̞̠͚̮̺͕̀ͅá̸̴̶͎͚̫̗̬̦͇̪̩͉̠̞̻̹̯̗̩ͅm̧͍̝̼͎̼͉̞̟̺̖͉̣͉̜͈e͏̸̝̼̜̮͕̦͚̤̩̪̟̮̪̗ ̴̡̢̦̺͖̫̯͕̣̘͠w̷̢̮͈̰̻̙̳̲͟͡͝e҉̧̡̮̗̙̯̯̥̼͙̥̣͓̣̮͔̙̭̼́͢ͅͅ ̵̶̶̫̜̜̻̦̙̖͙̠̼̮̗̪̀͜ͅh̖̬͙̹̜̯̞̫̰͉̩̗̜̥̬̺͖́́ą̵̡͓͎̮͚͈̙̘̹̯̞̻͙̦͇̩̣̼͢d̶͙͚̲̦͕̗͍̮͚̫̺̮̗̕͞͠͡ͅ ̸̞̼͍̗̕t̨̨͔͎̜̣̫̱̤̗͇̩̜͍̦̱̲̤́͝͡ͅͅo͉̺̻̥͔͓̼̘̪̯̬̞̙̱͎̳͖̰̕̕ ̨̖͚͍̤͈͙̪̘̲̗̘͔̮̹̞͕̞͖͟s̢͖̯̗̻̦̱̙̳͉e̛̹͙̩̫̫̝͘͜ͅȩ̸̱̼̲̤͚̼̗̺̙̬̗͔̫̭͕̫͖̥͢ ͓̲̥̼̺̥̹̹̖̝̟̹̭̣͢ͅt̳̥͍̲̼̯͠͡h̷̤̞͕̥͝͡e͉̹̥̟̰̣͉̪̜̼̟͡ḿ̨̢͚̯̙̣̗̖̦̳̣͍̤̱͎̹͍͖̘͔̕ ̴̜̩̤͍̣͡͝͡͠b҉̸̧̛͙͉̫̠͉̳̪̬͈̻̭͔̰͙̬̗͘ͅú̵̡̱͓̙̘̣̙̟͙̣̬̩̝̭̭̟̕͡r̹͇̦̀͞n̴̡͙̺̳̲͎̜̳̲̙͎̭͞ͅͅ What's gonna be left of the world i͏̧̛͏̢̗̪͍̬͔̰̝͎̫̣̦͚f͏̴̝̹͚̠̠͉̹͍͎͓͡͝ ̵̡̨̗̖͖̱̠̩̰̖̭͇̠͈͢͡ͅy̶̡͈͕̖͎̮͜͞ǫ͓͓̖̳̻̗̲͡ͅų̵̘̝̻̖̗̠͔̖̱̣̠͈͝͡'̰̱͈̪̬̬̼̦̼̲́̕͡r̖̠͍̳͈̀͢͡e̛̝͓͉̼͈͔̮̪̲̺̗̩̙̲͈̬͞ͅͅ ̶̠̘̣̯͓̣̰̲̠̥̘̥̲͚͢n̶͙͖̜̫̟̦̩͈͕̙̯̪͖̲̻̙̮͘͜ǫ̨̛̫̭̯̩͔͓t̸̡͚͕̦͈̖̱̦̱͜͜͡ ̴̛͙̯͔̱͔̩̻̙͉̮̘͙ͅͅi̸̢̡̛̺̖͎̖̫̻̤̖ņ̸̖̻͕͇̘̗̞͖̹͖͕̻̕ ͡͏̯͔̼̬̟̪̟̘į͟͝͏̫͍̳̺̹t̷̶̥̖͕̥̥̞̦̙͖͇͈͈́͢?̴̧̜͔̩͇̪̯̫̖͘͝ͅͅ W̵̳̩̦͔̲̮̤̞̹͇͕͕͉͙͚̤͜͡ͅͅh͏̘̲̗͎͖͝à͉͖̲̳͡͝t̷̵̛̛͓͉̹̮͓͓͓͉̫͚̞̲̜̮̖̥̮ͅ'͏͏̵̼̝̹͕ͅş̷̺̬̬̲ ̡͕̱̦̼̟̗̰̬̺̰̲̯̬͈͍̠̭̕͜ͅg̛̀͏͍̟̠͈͓͇̬̮͚͕̖͎̭͠ó̵̴̢̭̫̼̥̥̮̥̗̘͈̻̭̪̫̪̘̝ͅͅṇ̛̠͈͎̝͔̺̫̖͚͇̟̩̰͎͜ͅṋ̨̖̯͍́ḁ̴̺̗̮̤̦̲̬́͟ ̵͝҉͍̗͕̮͕̱̘͚̘̹̩̙͉b̶̢̙̪͚̻̼̯̗́̀è̴̢̡̥̹͎̖̦̰̳͍̩̹͚͎͈͉̜̫͚͡ ̺͖̟̖̺͈̹͓͇̣̩̰͓͔̙͈͉̺͟͡͞͝l̷̡̬͇͓̞̮̭̲̗̘̳̠̺͎͍̲̼̮e͜҉͉͈̭̻͓̘͚͇̮͈̮͖͎͙̤̩͍̟̜f̨̨̛̛̥̱̼̖̞͎̘̥͙̖͞ͅt̖̘͔̠̘̣͎̻̺̩͔͍̩̭̀͘ ̵̧̭̪͎̠͠͡ơ̧̰̜̣͚͕̼͘͘ͅf̵̴͕̪̲̫̰ͅ ̸̢̧̼̠͙̹͍͈ͅt̵̨̢̮̤̭̜̫̳̝͞h̸̛̞̺̻͍͉̕̕͝ȩ͉̖̱͎̰̦̤̗̪̳̞̰̼͢͠ͅ ̲̯͓̥̘̳͟w͏̢̱̼̹͉̩̙̹̖̠͕̩̙̯͈̰̺͢ͅơ̧͚̖̱̣͖͕̪̞̘̟̜̙̠̱͟ͅr҉̛̫̳͎̗̜̰͔͓̖͘͢ĺ̶̹͔̞̮́d̡҉͔̟̺̩̲̳̞͕̺̲̮?̣̳̜̲͍͖̖͟͢͡ͅ
ṗ̩̗ͯ̅̊͢a̛͒᷁̒̾͢ͅp̢͖̹̣ͯ᷁̇y͙͓̬͎̗̍̔r͕̺̠ͯ̚͘͞u̢̬̣ͪ᷁ͫͣs̴͕̫
∴̶͕͠ -̧̳᷄ ღ̉͒̄ -̩͕ͪ ✂̲́̃ -̜᷂̃ ✔̸ͧ᷆
[artist]
Shut my eyes and count to ten
It goes in one ear out the other, one ear out the other
Burning bright right till the e̡͡n͟͏d
Now you'll be mi͟҉͞s̡̕s̷̢ìn̵̷g͡ from the phot̡o̵g҉rap͝h͞s҉, m͘͞͡i̵s̸s̵͢i̶̵n̸̴g̶ from the p͢h͠o̴t͟o͘g͟r͟ap͢hs
Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers
In my thoughts yo̷u̶̷͟'re far away
And you are whistling a melody, whistling a melody
Crystallizing clear as day
I can picture y̵͔̞̻̙̥̞̤͞o̴̮̻̜̟u̕҉̯̪̩̼ so easily, picture y̷̝̫̫̣̘o̵̭̳̘̥͙͚̙͠u̸̳̼̞͎ so easily
Watching through my fingers, watching through my fingers
Caught off guard by your favorite song
I'll be d̞̳̯͙a̡̘̹̥͙̮̘̺ǹ͔ci̸͙̮n̢̤ͅg̩͠ ̶̞͍a̱̯͖̙̬̘͢t̹̤ ̞͝a̻͓̱̻̞̩ ̫̞̫͚̦f͏͈͙̜ụ̼̝̞͢ne̴ṛ̷͉͍a̲̣l̩͚̀, d͏̷̯̻͇̗͕̦́ą̴̟͉̼̳̩̠͚̻̤̠̀́n̸̶̼̠̮̗͉̗̫̠̰̱͡͞ç̵̛͙̥̟̯̝͉̙̖̤̞̭̕͢i̛̠͚̭̝̥̞̦̯̟̠͈̟̻̟͔͢n͏̸̰̖͓͖̖̤̩͔͔͓͖g̡̬̩̱̱̭͉̥͓̟̙̙͕̦͉̰̕ ̸̸͕͙͚̙̩̦̬̮͇͕͚͉͓̠ͅͅa̢̬͎͖̤͎̬̹̦̱̗͙̭͚̣͍͟ͅt҉̸͖̺͖̩̬̜̫̮̮̺̲̠͔͍̖͞ͅ ̺̦̖̣͕̖̣̻̬͉͚̬͜͝á̶͔̼̲̘̟̰̣̱͕͜͜ ̴̡̖͓̪̼̻̦̣̥̪̼̩̜̭͕͙̯͙̝̞̀f̴̧̛͔̮͚͇͎͕u̷̪͙͉̤̕͢͞n̨̡̞̻̮̳̬̹̰͟͡ẹ̡̢̛̭̘̠̗͓̰̯͜r̢̞̼͙̰͙̱̳͓̙̺͍̰̱͓̕͠a̧̨̭̗̞̪̲͙̮͙͈̕͘͠ĺ̶̮̘̠̬͚̩̘̹̗̦̕͡͞
Sleeping in the clothes you love
It's such a s͖̪̫̺̮̭͓̦͍̕ẖ͕̦͔͖̼͈̬a̙̝͕̹̦̻̮̗͠m͕̠͈͕̙͘e͉͔͙̙̦̜̗̜͢͢ͅ ̭̥̮̹͖̮̪̜̯̀w̬̞̦̠͚e̢͉͕̬̯̙͕͇͈ ̸̜̣̻̫̩͕͠h̶͚̯̻̹̗͉a̸̛͔̭̣̼̳̺d̴̤͕̦̤ ̧̖̜̻̪̭̙̘̻t̢͏̴͇̘̯͍̪ò̫͝ ̴̶̨̞̤s͇̣̀ȩ̼͍͍̫̻͎e̡̲ ̝̮̯͚̤̟͘͞t͙̠̟̩̩͇h̵̖͇́é̡̤̬̹m͈͎̞͕͇ ̝͓̯̰̪b̴̻̘̹̰͙̗ṷ̧̺̖̬͖r̨̧̞̳̀ņ̢̥̫͕̬̰̹̩̟, s͕̗̘͖̬̜̼̝̗̰̭̟͍̭͞h̸̸̶̡̞̠͚̮̺͕̀ͅá̸̴̶͎͚̫̗̬̦͇̪̩͉̠̞̻̹̯̗̩ͅm̧͍̝̼͎̼͉̞̟̺̖͉̣͉̜͈e͏̸̝̼̜̮͕̦͚̤̩̪̟̮̪̗ ̴̡̢̦̺͖̫̯͕̣̘͠w̷̢̮͈̰̻̙̳̲͟͡͝e҉̧̡̮̗̙̯̯̥̼͙̥̣͓̣̮͔̙̭̼́͢ͅͅ ̵̶̶̫̜̜̻̦̙̖͙̠̼̮̗̪̀͜ͅh̖̬͙̹̜̯̞̫̰͉̩̗̜̥̬̺͖́́ą̵̡͓͎̮͚͈̙̘̹̯̞̻͙̦͇̩̣̼͢d̶͙͚̲̦͕̗͍̮͚̫̺̮̗̕͞͠͡ͅ ̸̞̼͍̗̕t̨̨͔͎̜̣̫̱̤̗͇̩̜͍̦̱̲̤́͝͡ͅͅo͉̺̻̥͔͓̼̘̪̯̬̞̙̱͎̳͖̰̕̕ ̨̖͚͍̤͈͙̪̘̲̗̘͔̮̹̞͕̞͖͟s̢͖̯̗̻̦̱̙̳͉e̛̹͙̩̫̫̝͘͜ͅȩ̸̱̼̲̤͚̼̗̺̙̬̗͔̫̭͕̫͖̥͢ ͓̲̥̼̺̥̹̹̖̝̟̹̭̣͢ͅt̳̥͍̲̼̯͠͡h̷̤̞͕̥͝͡e͉̹̥̟̰̣͉̪̜̼̟͡ḿ̨̢͚̯̙̣̗̖̦̳̣͍̤̱͎̹͍͖̘͔̕ ̴̜̩̤͍̣͡͝͡͠b҉̸̧̛͙͉̫̠͉̳̪̬͈̻̭͔̰͙̬̗͘ͅú̵̡̱͓̙̘̣̙̟͙̣̬̩̝̭̭̟̕͡r̹͇̦̀͞n̴̡͙̺̳̲͎̜̳̲̙͎̭͞ͅͅ
What's gonna be left of the world i͏̧̛͏̢̗̪͍̬͔̰̝͎̫̣̦͚f͏̴̝̹͚̠̠͉̹͍͎͓͡͝ ̵̡̨̗̖͖̱̠̩̰̖̭͇̠͈͢͡ͅy̶̡͈͕̖͎̮͜͞ǫ͓͓̖̳̻̗̲͡ͅų̵̘̝̻̖̗̠͔̖̱̣̠͈͝͡'̰̱͈̪̬̬̼̦̼̲́̕͡r̖̠͍̳͈̀͢͡e̛̝͓͉̼͈͔̮̪̲̺̗̩̙̲͈̬͞ͅͅ ̶̠̘̣̯͓̣̰̲̠̥̘̥̲͚͢n̶͙͖̜̫̟̦̩͈͕̙̯̪͖̲̻̙̮͘͜ǫ̨̛̫̭̯̩͔͓t̸̡͚͕̦͈̖̱̦̱͜͜͡ ̴̛͙̯͔̱͔̩̻̙͉̮̘͙ͅͅi̸̢̡̛̺̖͎̖̫̻̤̖ņ̸̖̻͕͇̘̗̞͖̹͖͕̻̕ ͡͏̯͔̼̬̟̪̟̘į͟͝͏̫͍̳̺̹t̷̶̥̖͕̥̥̞̦̙͖͇͈͈́͢?̴̧̜͔̩͇̪̯̫̖͘͝ͅͅ
W̵̳̩̦͔̲̮̤̞̹͇͕͕͉͙͚̤͜͡ͅͅh͏̘̲̗͎͖͝à͉͖̲̳͡͝t̷̵̛̛͓͉̹̮͓͓͓͉̫͚̞̲̜̮̖̥̮ͅ'͏͏̵̼̝̹͕ͅş̷̺̬̬̲ ̡͕̱̦̼̟̗̰̬̺̰̲̯̬͈͍̠̭̕͜ͅg̛̀͏͍̟̠͈͓͇̬̮͚͕̖͎̭͠ó̵̴̢̭̫̼̥̥̮̥̗̘͈̻̭̪̫̪̘̝ͅͅṇ̛̠͈͎̝͔̺̫̖͚͇̟̩̰͎͜ͅṋ̨̖̯͍́ḁ̴̺̗̮̤̦̲̬́͟ ̵͝҉͍̗͕̮͕̱̘͚̘̹̩̙͉b̶̢̙̪͚̻̼̯̗́̀è̴̢̡̥̹͎̖̦̰̳͍̩̹͚͎͈͉̜̫͚͡ ̺͖̟̖̺͈̹͓͇̣̩̰͓͔̙͈͉̺͟͡͞͝l̷̡̬͇͓̞̮̭̲̗̘̳̠̺͎͍̲̼̮e͜҉͉͈̭̻͓̘͚͇̮͈̮͖͎͙̤̩͍̟̜f̨̨̛̛̥̱̼̖̞͎̘̥͙̖͞ͅt̖̘͔̠̘̣͎̻̺̩͔͍̩̭̀͘ ̵̧̭̪͎̠͠͡ơ̧̰̜̣͚͕̼͘͘ͅf̵̴͕̪̲̫̰ͅ ̸̢̧̼̠͙̹͍͈ͅt̵̨̢̮̤̭̜̫̳̝͞h̸̛̞̺̻͍͉̕̕͝ȩ͉̖̱͎̰̦̤̗̪̳̞̰̼͢͠ͅ ̲̯͓̥̘̳͟w͏̢̱̼̹͉̩̙̹̖̠͕̩̙̯͈̰̺͢ͅơ̧͚̖̱̣͖͕̪̞̘̟̜̙̠̱͟ͅr҉̛̫̳͎̗̜̰͔͓̖͘͢ĺ̶̹͔̞̮́d̡҉͔̟̺̩̲̳̞͕̺̲̮?̣̳̜̲͍͖̖͟͢͡ͅ
E͈͙̺͕͖v̢e̯͓͈̳̩͙͢r̝̻̣y̲̯̮̭̟̺ ̴̳ͅm̩͚͠ͅͅi̳̟͚̪̟̫n̨̬̭̣͍̘̻ú͚̺͓̳̭̭t̢̞̼̟̖e͉̻̟͓ ̜̣̣̩̝͖a̞̰͈̺̪͍̞n̖̳̺̦d̫̫͇̤̜͖̯ ̴̞̤̞͈̪͇̳ḛ͍͖̝̠͢v̵͖̫e҉r̰̳͎͎̫͇͈y ̤̳͠h̵o̳̪̫̘̣͚u̡r̗̗̲̘̱̥̬
I͇͎͎̰̟̰͜ ̖̺̀m̡̟̫̘̦i̘͍͙ṣ̳͔̺̻̣͘s̗̞̥͍͜ ̩̳̙̳͕̥̞̕yo͉̜̫u̼̬͕͎͎͚̠, ͙̣̥͚͚̤͠I̭̻͇͓ ̴̖̦̬̩̯m̠̳̘̪͘i̞s̪̺͉̕s ̴̲͕̟y͏͕̥̙͇ọ̘̝̯̝ṳ͇͙͓̬,͓̜͎͔ ͓͔̦͈I̡̫ ̜̪̱͉̝͙͝ͅm̥̣̥͓̭͈͉i͕s͓̣͖̟͙̠̱͘s̞̰̮͉͠ ̖̱̪͔̪͇yo̘̙̞u̡ ̱̣̞m͙̬͇̹ͅo̷̻̹r̵̥̹e̡̼
̩̲̱͇͕̝̀E̳̯̮̼̭͍̣̤v͉̤̬̟͡e͓͓̱͔r̡̦̩̭̼̠̪ỳ̡͕̝̱͚͡ ̵͘҉̠͓̮̤͉̦̣̙s̶͞҉̳t̜̹̣̝̱̲̻͜ṳ̵̡̭͚m̴̝̱̮̻̮̪͜b̻̩͈̗̼͙͟l̮̮̘̙e̡͖͙̝̜̜̗ ̨̗̮a̷҉͕̗͙̺̖̫̥͇͞ņ͏̺̥̹̘̝̠́d̸͙͕̱̻͈̀͘ ̶̗̖͕̝̕͘e̵̢̹̱ḁ̵̭c̴̘̰̖̼̘͍͍͘h̷̝̭ ̮͙̩͎͎̖ṃ̶̸͚͜i̶̸̙̭̪͎̻̝̪̺s͏̸̯͉̤̪̩͙f̛̝͚͎͙ͅi̧̳̞̣̗̯̕r̴̼͔͘͢e̩̟̹͖͍͈̞̳
̨̡͔͈̞̜̳̗I͙̤͠ ̗m̴̛̗͎̜̩͘i̵̦͔s̷̙̩̥s͏͎̀͠ ͏̝̯̜y̸̯̳̠͖͈̥͞o̢̯͔͔̮ͅu̴̢̼̺̗,̥͉̮̩́͞ ̨̨̩̱Í̴̴͓̝͖̯̩̣ ̞̩̜̯̖̺̩̰m̧̯ͅi҉͕͎͇͜s͏̧̘s̗̪͠ ̱̝̤y̢̞̥̬͢͞o̟͖̪͔̼u̵̦̙̮͇̺,̫̹͍̻̬͖͢ͅ ̰̟͞I̷̷̬̭̳̟ ̨̯̘̼̺̲m̷͓͍̤̻̝͈ͅi̵̤̜͟͢s͓͙͍͍̱̦͜s̗͚̦̤͖͎ͅ ̝̻̭͚̝͈̬y̪̜o̟̟̩̼̞͈͔̯ụ̭̱̦͓͚ ͡͏̴̯̮̭͔̻͉̟̞̘m̞̺̘̞̹̗ò҉̯̫̪r͜҉͏̰̖͇̪e̯̬̹͕̳̖͠