A fall of race on yellow pages
I've got no habitat or season to exist
but, a hideaway lies somewhere south 
Where I can slink away and shut my mouth
and if I think of something else I'll let you know

It's a picture stolen from my sleep 
where the air chill and space is cheap
and the faculty are all supervised. 
It's made from grit and sand
It's small enough to hold in your hand.
Imagine all the things that never end

I hide my face on other days because I find it fun
It separates old and gray 
The perfect time to lose your mind
is when you know you're out yet you still have a chance

The diaries of all their sons
held something that was frowned upon
a heavy taste of grime
because the youth was lost before it had name
no one laughed we felt ashamed 
It was too soon to say

When the metal came alive
You came around
As I gathered up my few things
I fell apart 

Hold yourself together now

Every day I wait I think of all the things I used to say
and how my folks are getting older by the hour
I'm waiting for the day you prove
that you're back to yourself again

When the metal came alive
You came around
As I gathered up my few things
I fell apart
and a new day started
Troops came flooding in
and you, a guardian actress, had a reason to abuse myself
Well, I said that I wasn't ready
Who are you to say, "I think I'll run away"? 

True love
We'll fall on our fucking faces