Besedila: Strung Out. Scarecrow.

i put my faith in the absence of something better if it doesn't fit then its out of reach for me i'm a tightly wound mess neatly perched inside my own distress and you talk of freedom that means nothing to me and then you say how we ever gonna know if there's something better is the only way to know ourselves to go too far i spend my days in a fear one day a wind will blow me away the only thing that keeps me here are these strings of mine that hold me down i watch the rise and fall of a thousand days it means nothing to me cause i've been promised redemption for a life time wasted in these golden fields so far so good so many promises swinging in the wind directions something that i can't control creation eludes me its all just waiting time here in this field nothing but a scarecrow waiting for the world to tear me down