I cross the street to find my dream
|
But it had gotten so tired
|
And as I feel past these alley ways and buildings
|
I see all the faces, they all look straight ahead
|
I turn the coroner for some shelter
|
And the ground begins to quiver
|
I hold the past in this fist
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I will go if you beckon me on
|
I threw broken glass
|
I see a hand, itĄ¯s reaching, telling me to hurry
|
I hear a voice inside, God it sounds like mine
|
|
DonĄ¯t Remake Me
|
Turning the clock I find that you are not fault for what you did
|
DonĄ¯t Remake Me
|
Sometimes its hard well, you are not at fault for what you did
|
|
I am going to pretend IĄ¯m flying
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Because I canĄ¯t, cant see the ground from this window
|
When I get down you and me weĄ¯re gonna kick our feet
|
Kick our feet through a sea of fears
|
You pulled on my arms, on my legs, tried to talk,
|
You always answered me with that wild old stare
|
|
DonĄ¯t Remake Me
|
Turning the clock I find that you are not fault for what you did
|
DonĄ¯t Remake Me
|
Sometimes its hard well, you are not at fault for what you did
|
|
Well if you knew what was really boiling in my head
|
Would you drive the nail through me?
|
|
DonĄ¯t Remake Me
|
Turning the clock I find that you are not fault for what you did
|
DonĄ¯t Remake Me
|
Sometimes its hard well, you are not at fault for what you did
|
DonĄ¯t Remake Me
|
Turning the clock I find that you are not fault for what you did
|
|
-----------------
|
Remake Me
|
| Dispatch |
