Thrice. Identity Crisis. In Your Hands. Zeneszám

Bound to this couch, I lie in waiting
Watching wind blown memories
Slip past my window sill I
Can't fall asleep,
Voice in my head disturbs me
Waking nightmares keep,
Hhave my cries fallen on deaf ears
Can you hear me or am I

Talking to myself again
Is there anybody listening
Are you taking this in
Am I wasting my breath
Tell me is the wind in your sails
Worth everything you give
Are you looking for something
Forgiveness

I leave it up to you
I guess I?m better off removed
Because this situation?s
Growing too thick
Could it have been something I said
Or was it something that I did
Did I ruin my chance
Have you written me off
Tell me where did I cross the line
And can I work my way back this time
Will I always regret this
Decision

I leave it up to you
I hope you find a good excuse
Because I?ve given about all that I can give
I could try to count the times
That I?ve been through this in my mind
But I?m running out of fingers
And I don?t have that much time