September
29 October 2008
Leave me out with the waste This is not what I do It's the wrong kind of place To be thinking of you It's the wrong time For somebody new It's a small crime And I've got no excuse
i used to think the past was dead and gone, i was wrong
elements of blindness make you strong
stuck between the burning shade and the fading light
just crying to hold back tears
through the fog and hail and sleet
some people, they roam this world alone
now you are the thieves that you pardon
you need to see the signs
i was broken for a long time, but its over now
stuck between the burning light and the dusty shade
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