days on end
windows I'm changing
silent hands
like its a virtue
holding on to damaged truth
like its a weapon
meant to hurt you
shouldn't care
a wooden chair
cracks its knuckles
restless midnight
wind blows worthless
turn the lights off
cursed the one small thing
I did right
shoes don't fit
theres miles to go
clement weather
smiling strangers
worried minds
sisters of mercy
barking dogs
that warn of dangers
people people everywhere
arms that need
eyes like stop signs
given just one match to burn
held breath
I'm scared to death to drop mine
shaken
doped up with insomnia
troubles that can kill the mind
rivers and ways to escape
streets to cross and hills to climb
I just want to get from point a to point b
then eight and nine
watch the sad face of the clock change
run for cover
wait in line
what else can a poor man do
what does he have
besides his place
its hard to find he is instrumental
painted gray
he hides his face
afraid of being someone else
don't let me vanish from your sight
I shed my skin
I had no choice
I taught my self to fight
guns and drums
walls that listen
forgetting with reckless abandon
dozen roses
in the trash can
ballad of the last man standing
roughly cut I'm vague to you
I hold my cards close to my chest
I don't want to spend my life
I took a chance
I should have guessed
dead end dreams all written down
the endless ocean
its not pretty
empty bottles keep their secrets
living dead wander the city
half insane
we laugh like dogs
and play the games
we got to play
we don't have the strength to fight
besides we don't know what to say
smoke machine ballet and murder
combination
virgin w****
I find myself behind the eight ball
hollowed out
washed up on shore
ancient hatred
man made thunder
dust and ashes
turn to mud
the birds all know that somethings wrong
temperatures that burn the blood
invisible the evening comes
knife in its teeth
and jealous rage
ten thousand volts
its pins me down
does its dirt
collects its wage
roads that recognize my voice
actions that i can't defend
chopping down this crooked tree
I've sang for days on end
windows I'm changing
silent hands
like its a virtue
holding on to damaged truth
like its a weapon
meant to hurt you
shouldn't care
a wooden chair
cracks its knuckles
restless midnight
wind blows worthless
turn the lights off
cursed the one small thing
I did right
shoes don't fit
theres miles to go
clement weather
smiling strangers
worried minds
sisters of mercy
barking dogs
that warn of dangers
people people everywhere
arms that need
eyes like stop signs
given just one match to burn
held breath
I'm scared to death to drop mine
shaken
doped up with insomnia
troubles that can kill the mind
rivers and ways to escape
streets to cross and hills to climb
I just want to get from point a to point b
then eight and nine
watch the sad face of the clock change
run for cover
wait in line
what else can a poor man do
what does he have
besides his place
its hard to find he is instrumental
painted gray
he hides his face
afraid of being someone else
don't let me vanish from your sight
I shed my skin
I had no choice
I taught my self to fight
guns and drums
walls that listen
forgetting with reckless abandon
dozen roses
in the trash can
ballad of the last man standing
roughly cut I'm vague to you
I hold my cards close to my chest
I don't want to spend my life
I took a chance
I should have guessed
dead end dreams all written down
the endless ocean
its not pretty
empty bottles keep their secrets
living dead wander the city
half insane
we laugh like dogs
and play the games
we got to play
we don't have the strength to fight
besides we don't know what to say
smoke machine ballet and murder
combination
virgin w****
I find myself behind the eight ball
hollowed out
washed up on shore
ancient hatred
man made thunder
dust and ashes
turn to mud
the birds all know that somethings wrong
temperatures that burn the blood
invisible the evening comes
knife in its teeth
and jealous rage
ten thousand volts
its pins me down
does its dirt
collects its wage
roads that recognize my voice
actions that i can't defend
chopping down this crooked tree
I've sang for days on end