Feather Fingers* Panic! at the Disco

I have crickets living with me
Little chirping limbs are coaxing
Me to see you can’t be lonely
When crickets live inside your clothing

Crickets living in my coat sleeves
Little chirping limbs are coaxing
Me to see I must be lucky
To have you be the one
Who loves me

I suppose if there were no reason
It wouldn’t be my coat they sing in
Because crickets hold no intent
Of being loved or being lucky
And I am both from what you've shown

So feather fingers if I am truly
Made of one million glowing constellations
Then I think I owe it to you to
Try to be every hallucination
You see in me

Thank you feather fingers for
Believing there is more out
Here than what we’re seeing
That there is more than just a canvas ceiling
Hanging above our heads with no meaning