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I tell them every dream I've ever had I tell them every place I have ever gone And if there is a fear of empty space I need to be surrounded by someone Waiting for a chance that things could change Or spend another night among the dead Searching for a calming presence I'm so excitable- nothing happens, I just can't go on Tell me why we have to live like this Waiting for a certain but distant fall Comfort is as unlikely as escape and love is always so conditional I'm tired of tense and frightened looks Staring out these tired, anxious eyes Looking for constant approval I'm so desirable- nothing matters, I have to move on I have to move on I guess it is pretty self-destructive to rain on what you create What if I said it was more productive, would you make a fool out of me? 'Cause I'd make a fool out of you, with your cool guitars and rock-star eyes Emotional on cue, or is it hypocrites, like us, That fear what truth can do? From Letras Mania