Underoath. Define The Great Line. Writing On The Walls. Zeneszám

Maybe we, why don't we sit right here for half an hour?
We'll speak of what a waste I am, and how we missed your beat again!

I swear we need to find some comfort in this run down place
To bridge the gap of this conscious state that we live in
And I'm short of time

How could you trust it
(these fate trashed walls)
To fit the shape of what they tell you
Come on, move on, move on
But mostly what they show you
(Yeah, yeah)
Not this way
Not this way

I'm taking back all the things I said
Thinking back all the things I said
(keep me filled in, I swear coming)

We walk alone,
We walk alone,
We walk alone,
We walk alone,
We walk alone,
We walk alone, back home
My own back home

You're almost gone and I'm ok (I still say you're sorry) to give you cahnce to be afraid
But never
I remember your presence

I hope to God you come down
I hope to God you feel this now
I hope to, god you come down
I hope to,
(God)

I know there must be some way out of here and all of them will be waiting there