|
All those years |
|
wanting to be here |
|
All those tragedies I screamed at |
|
and laughed at |
|
and threw in the trash |
|
And still they stand |
|
their lives burn so bright |
|
they've long since defined |
|
what's wrong and what's right |
|
Can't be sensitive |
|
It's been done |
|
What's left to be said |
|
will be spoken in tongues |
|
Rumors fly |
|
from simple minds |
|
Simple minds |
|
but no simple lies |
|
Being here after all this time |
|
being laughed at |
|
being judged |
|
like being in bed with a porcupine |
|
a thousand pricks against one |
|
All those years |
|
waiting to be here |
|
All those songs they laughed at |
|
ignored |
|
and called out of tune |
|
And still they stand |
|
their lives burn so bright |
|
they've long been defined |
|
what's wrong and what's right |
|
Can't be sensitive |
|
It's been done |
|
What's left to be said |
|
will be spoken in tongues |
