we are to follow
blindside
these streets are as cold and wet
flesh and bones are longing home
i was taken out of context
and to think you had me not speaking for a month or two
waiting for the sun to come out
what if i could stand still and get moved
we are nothing running blind
but im scared to be left behind
the tv dies more and more for each day
and the beauty of your eyes
makes the flashing lights behind me on the wall look even more pale
four o'clock and the sky is getting red
waiting for the sun to come out
im throwing myself at you
and i'm holding on for dear life
can i scream out of tune in this choir
what if i would stand still and get moved