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I opened up the music box |
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I wish you would have changed the locks |
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To keep me from replaying |
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All the feelings I've been saving |
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I did not keep them locked up inside |
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I did not take my steps in stride |
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Thought you were bluffing, trampled on you |
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Went from friends to nothing |
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Radio turns to gold |
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And paves the way |
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To find my home |
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When I'm alone |
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Overeager and underway |
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I risked it all, I had to say |
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What opened me up for the beating |
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But the heart is for bleeding |
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With scraps of songs I paste along |
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The seams of my clumsy tongue |
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In hopes of creating the golden notes |
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That might bring you back to me |
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Radio turns to gold |
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And paves the way |
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To find my home |
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When I'm alone |
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Like phantoms on the highway |
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After holiday, gritting their teeth |
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Racing to find a place for their soul |
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Or at least a place that's less familiar |
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We offer up our heart before |
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The heart's invited or asked for |
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Oh no, here I go my friend, I'm repeating |
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But the heart is for bleeding |
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And I've said all I can say |
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I am retreating, on my way |
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Music box, play my song I'll sing along |
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To that bitterly sweet tone when I'm alone |
