All these walls are up in arms
Making fun of my mistakes
Is it time to drag the leg of what we have come to?
Are you answering the call?
Are you raking up the leaves?
Are you searching the tv for some kind of answer?
Stumble through your door
Fall into your bedroom
Fighting just to find something to feel
I'm holding in your might
Not dialing your number
Did it have to come this far to make it real?
Make it real, make it real.
...
All these walls are up in arms
But they don't pull me to relief
As I'm tumbling from sleep to wish I was dreaming.
Are you answering the call?
Do you wish that you were young
Sinking softly from the weight
of what you were leaving
Stumble through your door
Fall into you bedroom
Fighting just to find something to feel
I'm not calling your might
I'm not dialing your number
Did it have to come this far to make it real?
Make it real.
. . .
Do you wish that you were young?
As we're calling.
As we answer it.
Do you wish that you were young?
As we're fighting.
As we're calling.
As we answer it.
Do you wish that you were young?
As we wish that we were young.
As we're calling.
As we stumble, As we stumble
As we stumble, As we stumble
As we stumble.
