| There’s no more wind to be found
|
| In the sails
|
| Hands full of falling stars
|
| And comet tails
|
| Rivers of sand
|
| All entwined through my hands
|
| To know what they’ve seen
|
| Well my burden’s all pale
|
| I’ll make an hourglass from my fingers
|
| I know I’m only passing through
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| That I’m stronger for it all
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| That the sadness is gone
|
| 'Cause I want to know that I’m steady on my feet
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| So be shrill, be real to me
|
| There’s no respite to be found
|
| In the waves
|
| Each rise and retreat will scrub the blood away
|
| I’ll make an hourglass from my fingers
|
| I know I’m only passing through
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| That I’m stronger for it all
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| That the sadness is gone
|
| 'Cause I want to know that I’m steady on my feet
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| So be shrill, be real to me
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| That I’m stronger for it all
|
| I don’t want to pretend that the sadness is gone
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| That I’m stronger for it all
|
| I don’t want to pretend that the sadness is gone
|
| 'Cause I want to know that I’m steady on my feet
|
| I don’t want to pretend
|
| So be shrill, be real to me |