Woorden: Hundred Reasons. Broken Hands.

We aspire to be just like you as we
fall to our knees to be grateful
If we could fake what we should believe
we'd fool you into thinking we're grateful

Take what you want from me
nobody's telling you where to go
don't think I am so naive
to be fool by these smokescreens

Confess to the priest
absolve your sins that eat you little by little
The dust settles into arms of hope
I'd break if you faought a little.

Take what you want from me
nobody's telling you where to go
don't think I am so naive
to be fool by these smokescreens

We languish in the sun, broken hands all blistered
just trying to hold on as we stood still on fire
Now and forever and now and forever