作词 : John Bradley/Scott Scharinger
 作曲 : John Bradley/Scott Scharinger
There is a chest
Of skin, of drawers
With pictures of waterspouts
Coming out from the ocean and into the mainland
Where you once lived
Before
When you were younger
Before
You learned how to hope, want, or wish
Your step became unsteady once
Even more
Every time you would stand on shrapnel
Under your feet
There was a growth under your skin
An addition of pride
For your newfound wasteland
But even worse
The future you see
The future you bring
The future you are completely okay with
I could wait up sick
Waiting for a response
I could wait up, waiting for anything
And it’s something that you’re completely okay with
You've been standing outside of my apartment
With your mouth open wide
and I haven't heard enough of it
You've been standing outside of my apartment
With your mouth open wide
and I haven't heard enough of it
Tell me, tell me, Miranda
Where do you see yourself tomorrow?
Do you worry each Wednesday
When the week is almost over
Where you will sleep
Where you will sleep
Your sanctuary is Missouri in May
And I still insist on cutting my tongue off
You've been standing outside of my apartment
With your mouth open wide
and I haven't heard enough of it
You've been standing outside of my apartment
With your mouth open wide
and I haven't heard enough of it
I will not speak of the crash
Cause if it is never spoken of
Then history will never know it happened
If it is never written about
Then no one can ever read it
If it is never talked about
Then no one can ever hear it
Then no one can ever hear it
Then no one can ever hear it
Do we know the truths of every broken step?
Only if it's told
Forgotten when it's old
Undesired and cold
There is no story to be told
(We'll say)
We'll say
We'll meet up in some hotel room
Be it fancy or pay by the hour
And we'll comfort each other
Like we used to in our time
You'll say it'll be just like the old days
But it won't be the f*cking old days
No it won't be the f*cking old days
Only now with our broken parts
Our overused and torn up pieces
Will it be better than before?
Will it be better than before?
Do we thank our practice with others
Or will it be tarnished by exact thought?
Will it be better than before?
Will it be better than before?
Will it be better than before?