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You've got a lot of nerve and I've got a lot of fingers to point |
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While you were busy building knowledge I was already right |
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I know a voice like yours is not a weapon at all |
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And even mine is not a chisel for a thickened skull |
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So you can chant your anthems to the deaf |
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And we can sit here and cry until there's nothing left |
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Or we can take our voices with our hands |
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Make like knives and make demands |
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We'll take our voices - with our hands |
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Make like knives - we'll make demands |
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I'm burning bridges for the last time |
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I'm breaking habits for the first time |
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I saw my future today, it said I'm going away |
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But I still haven't sung the last line |
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On my way down.. |
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I'm not ready to lay, not ready to fade |
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I'm not ready to die |
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And everyday of my life I can feel it getting harder to breathe |
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With every minute ticking by I'm getting ready to leave |
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I know a life like mine is not a reason to fret |
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But I've been busy making scars that you will never forget |
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If only thirty three years can save my life |
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I've had twenty three more to make things right |
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So when I'm taken to the sky and you're still here |
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You can clear your mind and dry your tears |
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When I'm taken home - and you're still here |
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Just clear your mind - dry your tears |
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I'm burning bridges for the last time |
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I'm breaking habits for the first time |
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I saw my future today, it said I'm going away |
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But I still haven't sung the last line. |
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On my way down.. |
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I'm not ready to lay, not ready to fade |
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I'm not ready to die |
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When I'm taken home - and you're still here |
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Just clear your mind - dry your tears |
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We'll take our voices - with our hands |
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Make like knives - we'll make demands |
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I'm not ready to lay, not ready to fade |
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I'm not ready to die |
