i wear the customary clothes of my time,
like jesus did, with no reason not to die
facing history, with little to no irony
like i'm some forgotten southern city, sherman razed
still hid under thick smoke after all these years

these hands, are my father's hands but smaller
soaked in paint thinner,
until they're so dry coming together,
they make the sound of resisting each other
a shrill squeal like two moving rubber, tires touching
hide nothing, hide nothing

so long
to the days
you grow sad of

and if
i try but
found
not much for you to hold

the more you hold
the more you feel alone

and wait
till you can wait
till you can wait
till you can wait

no oh oh

so long to the
days you come to know
so you had to
get there on your own

to wait
to grow old
you're waiting
to grow old

till you can wait
till you can wait
till you can wait
till you can wait

no more

Life. It?s like I?m never there
Time. I?ve got no more to spare
Awake to the sound of a million people
Look around to see
That no one?s there

[CHORUS:]

Breaking out of a new cell
What you wanted to be
Try to reason
Try to think
Want some sympathy

Used. These hands are used and dirty
And screaming for something new

Wait. I?ve waited for so long
To break away from all that?s wrong
But it?s inconsequential
It seems nothing matters
It seems nothing matters unless you scream

[CHORUS]

Used. These hands are used and dirty
And screaming for something new

You said?nothing

Break up the pieces, they?re killing you slowly
No fiction fact or fantasy could make you see

[CHORUS]