| Face against the wind
|
| Dusty roads and concrete skin
|
| Tracing back the lines
|
| Choosing forms I’ve left behind
|
| Spinning like a stone
|
| The ever-ending flow of the free fallening leaves
|
| Yeah, I’m afraid that
|
| I can’t change.
|
| Let it be.
|
| Every bend, every break
|
| All the times I’ve lost my way
|
| All the stains, all the scars
|
| Oh my torn up paper art.
|
| Back and forth, push and pull
|
| It’s carved and cursed
|
| inside my soul.
|
| Yet, I believe
|
| this tug-o-war has taught me
|
| How to breathe.
|
| Secrets that I keep,
|
| burning holes inside of me.
|
| Stirring up the ghosts
|
| Romblins won’t leave me alone.
|
| Time is the traitor and I am the taker
|
| of lost memories.
|
| Yeah, I’m afraid that I can’t change
|
| Let it Be.
|
| Every bend, every break
|
| All the times I’ve lost my way
|
| All the stains, all the scars
|
| Oh my torn up paper art.
|
| Back and forth, push and pull
|
| It’s carved and cursed
|
| inside my soul.
|
| Yet, I believe
|
| this tug-o-war has taught me
|
| How to breathe.
|
| Yeah, I’ve seen it all.
|
| Scattered ashes of myself
|
| in a worn out wishing well.
|
| And I hear the call
|
| Oh, that every — in the sky
|
| lifts me up and brings me light
|
| Holds me close
|
| Every bend, every break
|
| All the times I’ve lost my way
|
| All the stains, all the scars
|
| Oh my torn up paper art.
|
| Back and forth, push and pull
|
| It’s carved and cursed
|
| inside my soul.
|
| Yet, I believe
|
| this tug-o-war has taught me
|
| How to breathe.
|
| Yeah, this tug-o-war has taught me
|
| How to breathe. |