| From the tallest heights
|
| We could hear from all directions
|
| Their careful goodbyes
|
| And all the hands beside
|
| The coldest of queens
|
| That we carried like trophy wives
|
| We sang along to lonely strings
|
| We danced atop a child’s dreams
|
| We waited for these bitter things
|
| To take their leave
|
| To take their leave tonight
|
| We break the walls we love for peace
|
| We trade what little’s left
|
| In search of some release
|
| In every photograph
|
| We see it staring back
|
| The comfort that comes with the past
|
| And all your favorite parts
|
| Don’t fit into the vacancies you hide behind your heart
|
| We end the day with littered lungs
|
| We speak despite our swollen tongues
|
| We own the broken notes we sung
|
| But this won’t hold
|
| But this won’t hold for long
|
| We break the ones we loved for peace
|
| We trade what little’s left
|
| In search of some release
|
| We tell ourselves it’s only just enough to breath
|
| We trade what little’s left
|
| In search of some release
|
| We break the ones we loved for peace
|
| We trade what little’s left
|
| In search of some release
|
| We tell ourselves it’s only just enough to breath
|
| We trade everything we are
|
| In search of some release |