Hanging on by a thread
Now I'm longing for things I left for dead
Crawling out of my core
Nervous ticks that weren't there before
And I've let the fruits of labor turn me inside out
I've got this thing within me that wants to burn it down
I don't wanna fall into the weeds again
I don't wanna act like I don't understand the risk
After the sky falls down, is there a choice to be made?
How does it all boil down when we burn ourselves and trade our faces?
After they traced our call, what was the last thing you said?
"It's coming out the sides...
We're coming out the sides..."
There's a fork in the ground
Now I'm treading the line of lost and found
And it can't be reversed
The devil laughs as I'm getting worse
And I can't help questioning the recipe for fate
Dead zones have microphones that caught us all on tape
I don't wanna fall into the weeds again
I don't wanna act like I don't understand the risk
After the sky falls down, is there a choice to be made?
How does it all boil down when we burn ourselves and trade our faces?
After they traced our call, what was the last thing you said?
How does it all boil down when we burn ourselves and trade our faces?
Don't wait too long
(Is this the last sound I'll get out?)
It's coming down
(Is this the last thing I'll remember?)
Don't wait too long
(Is this the way that I go out?)
It's coming out the sides
We're coming out the sides
Is this a common occurrence?
I don't wanna be sure...
We're coming out the sides
We're coming out the sides
We're coming out the sides
We're coming out the sides