| I wasn’t born this way
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| I’ve been living a lie, they say
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| So when it brought me to my knees
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| Well, I had everything
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| So tell me, would you, please
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| How could I possibly have needed so much more?
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| The thing I was craving then
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| Was some kind of laboring
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| So I might find a friend
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| In all the aching
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| In my muscles as they hurt
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| Oh, won’t you put my hands to work to ease my mind?
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| And you realize in a moment’s grace
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| You’ve been unraveling the fabric of your coat
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| And you pick a line down the wall and trace
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| Until the end
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| And when you walk back sorry
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| With a folding body
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| Like you should
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| No, I am not gonna die this way
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| Maybe it was the mold, you see
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| That was knocking the wall in me
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| And I forgot just what it was that
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| I had needed to be
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| For all the time I’d been given
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| Maybe I’d forgot what living was now for
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| And, you realize in a moment’s grace
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| You might just already be on to something good
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| And you pick a line down a cord and trace
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| Because you can
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| And when it comes back heavy
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| You’ll be more than ready
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| Like you should
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| 'Cause I am not gonna die this way
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| Through a crack in the road, it sprung
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| The seedling, warm and young
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| Stretching out for the sun
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| It’s August and I’m grinnin'
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| For this time I might be winnin'
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| As the moving lights that time of year lay still
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| And as my body changes a pace, I seem to know again
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| That I am not gonna die this way
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| Oh, I’ll hold my missus
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| In a bed of kisses
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| Like I should
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| 'Cause I am not gonna die this way |