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So, what happened to all your plans? |
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You were so quick to throw your hand |
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In a journey no more than 40 days, you would be: |
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Just some king without a crown |
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Eating everyone else around (oh no) |
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Parading all day with his thrift store rings foolishly |
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With every move you make |
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To keep the piece in time |
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You stumble through a haze |
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Of vanishing fine lines |
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And everything you do |
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Crumbles all around |
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'Cause all the walls you build are tearing down |
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When all your kings and queens |
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All go to their knees |
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And all the faded marks swimmin inside your heart |
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The systems in the head |
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Connected to the rest are holding onto you |
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Holding on to you |
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And no one knows and no one cares |
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Why he was hiding in God knows where (oh no) |
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And the liner notes will have to read "He was there" |
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When suddenly you move |
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Your hand surprises you |
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Your heart it gains a stride |
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And effervescent eyes |
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You see the faded marks |
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And every jaded heart |
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And all that you confessed |
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The hymns that cried for rest |
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It measures in the gloom |
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In every hotel room |
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When everything you do comes crashing down |
