Are we so alone,
|
So distant,
|
So forgotten,
|
As we think ourselves to be?
|
|
These are our lives
|
But did they ever even matter?
|
Are we worth remembering?
|
|
These machines feed on the tears
|
Of broken lives and dying dreams
|
We're throwing wrenches in the gears
|
Our lives will not be lived in vain
|
|
When this is all said and done
|
We spent this life on the run
|
Judged by the company we keep
|
|
Our language, buried inside
|
These lungs that keep us alive
|
We breathe so selfishly
|
|
Promises we plan to break
|
Are made in whispered voices
|
Cause our despair knows many names
|
|
We make mistakes
|
But we apologize with roses
|
We never stop to smell along the way
|
|
These machines feed on the tears
|
Of broken lives and dying dreams
|
We're throwing wrenches in the gears
|
Our lives will not be lived in vain
|
|
When this is all said and done
|
We spent this life on the run
|
Judged by the company we keep
|
|
Our language, buried inside
|
These lungs that keep us alive
|
We breathe so selfishly
|
|
We fell from the sky today
|
We melt into balls of clay
|
We sell ourselves everyday
|
Don't tell me how to live this way
|
|
Pushed so far to the edge
|
We teeter just on the brink
|
You can lead me to the bloodbath
|
But you can't make me drink
|
|
As these machines feed on the tears
|
Of broken lives and dying dreams
|
We're throwing wrenches in the gears
|
Our lives will not be lived in vain
|
My life will not be lived in vain
|
|
-----------------
|
Tip The Scales
|
Rise Against |