Synapse

A single moment was enough to create this:
 A retinal distraction when a scatter of light
 Hits and forms an image.
 Perfection is the harshest term.
 The shade of your eyes is a curse, it's a curse.
 Don't look at me.
 Don't look at me, it hurts.
 ♪
 The neurons have fired:
 
 A torrential surge through the optic nerve...
 I can't find the words.
 
 The warmth of a body in an empty bed...
 When only the scent is left, only dissent is left.
 A single moment was enough to create this:
 A retinal distraction when a scatter of light
 Hits and forms an image.
 Perfection is the harshest term.
 The shade of your eyes is a curse, it's a curse.
 Don't look at me.
 Don't look at me, it hurts.
 ♪
 The neurons have fired:
 ♪
 A torrential surge through the optic nerve...
 I can't find the words.
 
 The warmth of a body in an empty bed...
 When only the scent is left, only dissent is left.
 It's too late for rational sense
 The neurons have fired
 ♪
 A single moment was enough to create this:
 A retinal distraction when a scatter of light
 Hits and forms an image.
 Perfection is the harshest term.
 The shade of your eyes is a curse, it's a curse.
 Don't look at me.
 Don't look at me, it hurts.