A cry for help.
Thread by thread, I pull apart my shelter, I push ahead. But when I find just what I’m looking for I’m gonna need a friend, an open door to be naive, to let it pass me by, and to relieve myself of everything in front of me. To neglect responsibility.
Now we’re here, but all we want to do is dissapear and that thread that you were walking on has now withered in your years withdrawn.
Oh, the days they pass me by, I sit still but I don’t know why. And in the night I’ll rise, I’ll never go, so I’ll never know.
"I know we’re young but I feel so old. Get me the doctor, call me the doctor One by one we become undone. Get me the doctor, call me the doctor"
I don't wanna know. I just want to see how it goes with time. Please, I'm trying to let go.