We're moving mountains, isn't that enough?
We're taking turns at turning backs,
And forgoing our love Distaste
Is inevitable, and leaves a bad feeling in your conscious
We forgot the point

Let's pretend that we can hide like cities in the night
Don't try to stop it
Let's pretend that we can hold on

We're bidding applause with eloquence and fleeting calls
Can I choose to stop my lungs,
And let the words sit on their tongue?
Watch the flicker waltz on the walls
We're holding fast with shaking hands and sewing ties with lesser men
I am the stereotype
I am the wrong to all that's right

Don't give up on wounded arms

I'm wrong You'll write the fullness down
You pray I fight alone