Wait It Out

	Wait It Out
	Imogen Heap
	by Hamlin
	Where do we go from here?
	How do we carry on?
	I can't get beyond the questions...
	Clambering for the scraps,
	in the shatter of us collapsed.
	Is cuts me with every "could have been"...
	Pain on, pain on, play repeating.
	With the backup makeshift life in waiting.
	Everybody says,
	that time heals everything.
	But what of the wretched hallow?
	The endless in-between?
	Are we just going to wait it out...?
	There's nothing to see here now,
	Turning the sign around.
	We're closed to the Earth 'til further notice.
	Stumbling cliché case,
	Crumpled and puffy faced.
	Dead in the stare of a thousand miles.
	All-in-one, only one street-level miracle.
	I'll be an out-in-out, born-again from none more cynical.
	Everybody says,
	that time heals everything.
	All in the end.
	But what of the wretched hallow?
	The endless in-between?
	Are we just going to wait it out...?
	...and sit here cold?
	We'll be long gone by then, and lackluster.
	In dust we lay around old magazines.
	Fluorescent lighting sets the scene,
	For all we could and should be being,
	In the one life that we've got...
	In the one life that we've got.
	Everybody says,
	that time heals everything.
	But what of the wretched hallow?
	The endless in-between?
	Are we just going to wait it out?
	Sit here cold...
	...just going to sweat it out?
	Wait it out.

	Wait It Out
	Imogen Heap
	by Hamlin
	Where do we go from here?
	How do we carry on?
	I can' t get beyond the questions...
	Clambering for the scraps,
	in the shatter of us collapsed.
	Is cuts me with every " could have been"...
	Pain on, pain on, play repeating.
	With the backup makeshift life in waiting.
	Everybody says,
	that time heals everything.
	But what of the wretched hallow?
	The endless inbetween?
	Are we just going to wait it out...?
	There' s nothing to see here now,
	Turning the sign around.
	We' re closed to the Earth ' til further notice.
	Stumbling cliché case,
	Crumpled and puffy faced.
	Dead in the stare of a thousand miles.
	Allinone, only one streetlevel miracle.
	I' ll be an outinout, bornagain from none more cynical.
	Everybody says,
	that time heals everything.
	All in the end.
	But what of the wretched hallow?
	The endless inbetween?
	Are we just going to wait it out...?
	... and sit here cold?
	We' ll be long gone by then, and lackluster.
	In dust we lay around old magazines.
	Fluorescent lighting sets the scene,
	For all we could and should be being,
	In the one life that we' ve got...
	In the one life that we' ve got.
	Everybody says,
	that time heals everything.
	But what of the wretched hallow?
	The endless inbetween?
	Are we just going to wait it out?
	Sit here cold...
	... just going to sweat it out?
	Wait it out.