That's making up the worst of years
The distance from here to there
Is further than it first appears
Travel the states of your mind
Spending too much time alone
But only bring an anger home
No one here can give protection
To save you from yourself
And we won't call on help
Cut off my hands if you must
I know that it's not your style
But what lies under the dust
When you haven't moved for a while
If the situation's hopeless
You settle for a second prize
It all comes back in the forecast
I don't mind all the friends
That you always bring around
All the way you hang your cruci
Tomorrow you can face the weather
Don't fuck it all up today
But could you keep it together
