| Listen closer
|
| I hear the nervousness
|
| In every word that’s said
|
| There’s a revolution comin'
|
| Fueled by years of givin' in
|
| Call a doctor
|
| Impatience flat-lining
|
| It lives inside of me
|
| You’ve been known to pull from hiding
|
| Are you aware of what you’ve done?
|
| I’ve sat in silence
|
| Nearly burning up my tongue
|
| It’s foolish and shameful to say
|
| We’re the same
|
| All our lives in a bubble
|
| Losing sight of reality
|
| We paint the lie in pretty colors
|
| And blur the lines and what’s between
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| I’m not at my grave
|
| Embers burnin'
|
| But there’s a spark missing
|
| To the better parts of me
|
| Reignitin' all those feelings
|
| Who are you to say I’m dead?
|
| Your confusion
|
| Has got you twistin' facts
|
| Your fantasy intact
|
| Tell the story how you want to
|
| But we both know the truth
|
| I’ve sat in silence
|
| Is this loud enough?
|
| All our lives in a bubble
|
| Losing sight of reality
|
| We paint the lie in pretty colors
|
| And blur the lines and what’s between
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| I’m not at my grave
|
| No, I’m not at my grave
|
| See, I’m not ready for the end just yet
|
| No, no
|
| I’m not ready for the end just yet
|
| And I think
|
| I’m better off on my own
|
| And I think
|
| I’m better off on my own
|
| My own
|
| All our lives in a bubble
|
| Losing sight of reality
|
| We paint the lie in pretty colors
|
| And blur the lines and what’s between
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| The stolen unknown, it followed us home
|
| I’m not at my grave
|
| No, I’m not at my grave
|
| No, I’m not at my grave
|
| No, I’m…
|
| No, no…
|
| See, I’m not ready for the end just yet
|
| (I'm better off on my own
|
| I’m better off on my own) |