In a morning as crisp as 20s from the ATM
I am walking, and I am walking with a purpose:
To avenge the year when all your rights got a little bit left
To take back my bitter words
And to feed your sorrow to the birds
Every time you fall asleep
I look at your closed eyes and think that
You are all you are
I hope you never train your voice
Or lose your faith in noise
We're getting somewhere, but somewhere could be anywhere