Every hour is a season,
Every minute lasts a day,
So I sit here picking stitches,
'Cos I find comfort in decay,
How I long to fill my lungs

So tell me how does it feel to,
Breathe air cold and clean,
Cos I've been living on my knees,
Since I was seventeen
Thought I was safe beneath the smoke,
But even under cover,
I still choke

And my wings are clipped but even if they weren't,
I've not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth
There's not poetry in my soul,
Just a list of lies I've told
And I don't' know how much longer I can hold on

And my wings are clipped but even if they weren't,
I've not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth
There's not poetry in my soul,
Just a list of lies I've told
And I don't' know how much longer I can hold on

And my wings are clipped but even if they weren't,
I've not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth
There's not poetry in my soul,
Just a list of lies I've told
And I don't' know how much longer I can hold