I stand in crowded rooms of emptyness.
Time has come to move, time has come to leave,
these streets have shed their shades.
//
Every time you lie, I close my eyes,
hold up your hands to the fucking skies,
I'll sit and wait to see the day you die.
The frustration is kicking in,
every time the storm blows over
you seem to pull it back in again.
I die every time that you try to find a way to put it back,
I'll line up the things that remind me of us,
there's no coming back.
I'll carve in my chest, there's no coming back.
Branches will not grow back once their burnt to embers,
I'd love to find a way to put it back together.
I die every time that you try to find a way to put it back.
I'll line up the things that remind me of us,
there's no coming back.
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