I seek the shade under these dead trees
but they are nothing without their leaves
I seek the open seas, but they'll never be a home for me
I smash my head against the wall
Until it crumbles and falls
I see tell tale signs of wear and old age
I see my waning youth, my swelling rage
An hourglass of shifting sands
Held amidst my wretched hands
The second hand hastens its pace
lengthening the lines on my face
I'll build our home of sand and stone
I'll make everything alright everything alright
I'll break my bones upon that sand and stone
and this pain, will make it strong
Like my bloodied finger tips
the scars on your legs
that stretch like highways of wrong way
signs and dead ends
like a flower in an untrodden field
like the winter
like that winter
that never yields
I saw a hall of empty seats
I saw a vault of locked away dreams
I saw a white picket fenced home,
I see a light and an open door
A place of our own
I seek the shade under these dead trees
but they are nothing without their leaves
they are nothing without their leaves
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