Take what you can get,
wander out to the middle,
get a grip on what I've said,
or just hide from it.
And if the pressure never quits;
fill the holes with my body,
clean the stains inside my head,
or let me die for this.
These are the words I never said, they would be wasted on you.
You wanted time, well you've got it.
Why are you giving up?
I've got these lines and I know the words, but I can't ever get to you.
You wanted time, well you've got it.
Why are you giving up?
Your penchant for wreckage, your self abuse;
you've given up on you.
We are the same.
The dirt's inside my blood, the water's in your lungs.
We are the same.
We document these things to keep them all in place.
You wanted time, well you've got it.
Why are you giving up?
I've got these lines and I know the words, but I can't ever get to you.
You wanted time, well you've got it.
Why are you giving up?
Your penchant for wreckage, your self abuse;
you've given up on you.