Underoath. 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.
I'm short on time.

How come you try and fit the shape of what they tell you
But mostly what they show you.
That brings us home
I pray for you to move on.

At this rate we can't keep up but I sure can't just sit still.
I'm taking back all the things I said.
Keep me filled in, I swear I'll come.

We will walk alone, back home.

You're almost gone and I'm ok to give you time to be afraid
I still see your shadow but never your face again
I remember your presence.

I hope to God you came down.
I hope to God you can feel this now.

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