sliding out of bed
with the stars coming in

trying not to think
this is out of my hands

my determination on trial,

and i know

i'll take the accusations
to heart 'cause i know
that i will be running out
to pursue the sound

while the final line's come and gone

and the futile cries of my alibis

will never be good enough

not at all

i should've held belief from the start

that i am staring at the pages as hard as i can

'cause i am devoted
to a stranger kind of lord
she compels me to beseech her

with a fervor so untoward

i'm trying not to take it too hard,
'cause i know

that i will be running out to pursue the sound
while the final line's come and gone
and the futile cries of my alibis
will never be good enough

not at all
i'm running out to pursue the sound
while the final line's come and gone
and the futile tries to be normalized
will never be good enough
not at all