come watch the leaves turn red in Central Park
|
when the morning comes and the sky stays dark
|
your face is stern
|
but I can see through
|
and I know what you're gonna do
|
you're gonna rip his throat out with your hands
|
he won't have a chance to say,
|
"you've got the wrong man!"
|
|
hold on
|
just hold on
|
is it my imagination?
|
or does patience make more sense?
|
|
those men decided it was time to leave
|
finally your story was believed
|
but as they went they stepped on feet
|
and it's hard to show grace in defeat
|
you're gonna throw a rock against a wall
|
and it won't hurt them
|
but your life is very small to them
|
|
hold on
|
just hold on
|
is it my imagination?
|
or does patience make more sense?
|
|
hold on
|
just hold on
|
is it my imagination?
|
or does patience make more sense?
|
|
you make decisions with a bloody nose
|
stare down all the thinkers but your eyes are closed
|
you think it's the best way
|
but it's just the only way you know
|
you're staring as your life slips away from you
|
you try hold on to something you think is true
|
you think it's the best way
|
give it a moment
|
|
give it a moment
|
|
hold on
|
just hold on
|
is it my imagination?
|
or does patience make more sense?
|
|
hold on
|
just hold on
|
is it my imagination?
|
or does patience make more sense?
|
|
-----------------
|
Patience
|
| Fiction Plane |
