| The disconnect
|
| Is welling up
|
| And good intentions are not enough
|
| Your words are so weary
|
| Their hearts are so strained
|
| And idle vows find the deepest pains
|
| I’m sick, I’m tired
|
| Of hollow hope
|
| Of promises, empty
|
| Your way with words
|
| They’re feeding back inside my head
|
| Oh, the things I could say that won’t change a thing
|
| I am not the same
|
| I won’t feed on fame
|
| You’re one of a thousand voices
|
| In my head that all just sound the same
|
| If mine never made a difference
|
| It won’t make the meaning change
|
| You’re one of a thousand voices
|
| In my head that all just sound the same
|
| If I will make a change
|
| It’s by my words and not my name
|
| I’m tired, I’m sick
|
| Of misfit beggars
|
| With able tongues and easy outs
|
| I hear you clearer than you hear yourself
|
| Bite down on your blindness, and spit it out
|
| I am not the same
|
| I won’t feed on fame
|
| You’re one of a thousand voices
|
| In my head that all just sound the same
|
| If mine never made a difference
|
| It won’t make the meaning change
|
| You’re one of a thousand voices
|
| In my head that all just sound the same
|
| If I will make a change
|
| It’s by my words and not my name
|
| I won’t sink into the sea of grey
|
| A violence of colour
|
| I won’t melt into the choir of angels
|
| I’ll step up and scream it
|
| I am dissonant
|
| A violence of colour
|
| You’re one of a thousand voices
|
| In my head that all just sound the same
|
| If mine never made a difference
|
| It won’t make the meaning change
|
| You’re one of a thousand voices
|
| In my head they sound the same
|
| If I will make a change
|
| It’s by my words and not my name |