| I can see how this will end
|
| In a cloud of dust
|
| In a filthy war
|
| I can see how this will end
|
| While we’re still clinging
|
| To whatever
|
| We can find
|
| And all of this I’ve been through before
|
| Its a page that’s been torn
|
| From that same old story
|
| And we’re desperate
|
| We’ll tear down the shelves
|
| To read a different ending
|
| Keep your head down, don’t let them see you
|
| Just rest here
|
| Keep your hopes high, it can’t be much longer now
|
| Can’t wake up
|
| So we sat and waited for it to pass
|
| I’ve been growing old
|
| In these trenches
|
| Waiting for the white flag
|
| To be waved
|
| Well I’ve been playing it right
|
| Right from the script
|
| Waiting for the same cue
|
| To slow and just stop
|
| All the lines of my face are filled with dust (with dust)
|
| And oh how I’ve learned to sleep so well in dirt
|
| All the things I said I meant, but wasn’t sure
|
| All the words we never kept, but we had to say
|
| It was never a secret
|
| We never kept it quiet
|
| We said what we said and we’ll say it again
|
| This isn’t home
|
| And all of this I’ve been through before
|
| Is a page that’s been torn
|
| From that same old story
|
| We’re desperate
|
| And We’ll tear down the shelves to read a different ending
|
| To read a different ending
|
| Now I’m climbing up and getting out
|
| I’m going home, I’m going home
|
| Now I’m climbing up and getting out
|
| I’m going home, I’m going home
|
| Now I’m climbing up and getting out
|
| I’m going home, I’m going home
|
| Now I’m climbing up and getting out
|
| I’m going home, I’m going home
|
| Now I’m climbing up and getting out |