| Go ahead and work with your hands
|
| Form the calluses that harden them
|
| And start molding something new out of clay
|
| And in the dead of night, it’ll take a shape
|
| Just don’t call me indescribable
|
| 'Cause it makes me uncomfortable
|
| I just wanted for you to find your way
|
| Without me, could you do it without me?
|
| 'Cause you want something I can’t be
|
| So promise me you’ll work on yourself
|
| Don’t waste all that love on someone else
|
| 'Cause there’s always something new in the way
|
| Sometimes I make a friend just to make mistakes
|
| So don’t call me indescribable
|
| 'Cause it makes me uncomfortable
|
| I just wanted for you to find your way
|
| And I’ve always had this fear that I’m
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| Not real enough to be described
|
| So I’m learning to adapt to everything
|
| But I don’t know if you want to
|
| Fall in love with a costume
|
| I guess there’s nothing to stop you
|
| 'Cause doesn’t it all go back to the way it has to
|
| It always gives you a chance to run before it attacks you
|
| So show me what you made with your hands
|
| I treat the memory like contraband
|
| And keep it in a dark, hidden cave
|
| But eventually, it wants to see the day
|
| That’s why I’m welcoming a wandering eye
|
| It’s the assurance that you’ll be alright
|
| If I wake up one day and decide
|
| That the distance is more like a dimming light
|
| Because everything is just a compromise
|
| Between the out of touch and the stuck inside
|
| And I’m stuck inside
|
| I’m stuck inside
|
| I’m stuck inside
|
| But doesn’t it all go back to the way it has to
|
| It always gave you a chance to run when it didn’t have to |