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He was walking across the wire |
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Holding a loaded gun |
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Taking out every lightbulb |
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One by one |
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And she was building brand new walls |
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To keep her safe and sound |
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Sometimes a place to live |
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Is just a place to hide |
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One more year |
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One more year |
|
Let's hold our breath |
|
And give it just |
|
One more year |
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Well he was sparks and gasoline |
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All fire and command |
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The warmest comfort dies |
|
In the coldest hands |
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And she was two steps from the edge |
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But holding on somehow |
|
Even God himself couldn't blame her now |
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One more year |
|
One more year |
|
Let's hold our breath |
|
And give it just |
|
One more year |
|
Now he's working on a plan |
|
Learning to make her smile |
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Maybe a change of pace |
|
Or a change of style |
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And she's walking across the wire |
|
Holding a loaded gun |
|
Hoping that what we feel |
|
Ain't what we've become |
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One more year |
|
One more year |
|
Let's hold our breath |
|
And give it just |
|
One more year |
