Turnover - Hollow

^G#mI look ^Einto eyes, ^G#mbut I ^Acan’t tell if they’re mine. ^G#mThe words coming off my ^Etongue feel like ^G#mdelicately polished, ^Epracticed lines.^A

^AIn my head I know my ^Eface, but I haven’t ^G#mshown it for so ^Along now, that I might now ^Eknow ^G#mhow. ^AEvery day ^EI’m someone else, someone different, ^Abut I swear that you could never ^Etell that I’m hollow. ^{G#m A G#m A}

^AI’m hol^Elow. ^AI fill the ^Bemptiness with ^Athings that ^Earen’t real, to ^Esee if I can ^Bfeel less ^Ehollow, ^Abut I ^G#mknow it’s only ^Atemporary. It’s temporary.

^AIn my head I know my ^Eface, but I haven’t ^G#mshown it for so ^Along now, that I might now ^Eknow ^G#mhow. ^AEvery day ^EI’m someone else, someone different, ^Abut I swear that you could never ^Etell that I’m hollow. ^{G#m A G#m A}