this is not a band
you are not a fan
no one can tell a man
how to use his hands
dig this little song
dust it off, put it on
no one can tell you how
to return to a burning town
why does it feel so wrong
if everyone was already gone?
now that i'm old
where do my hands go?
i have been told
if you're not careful
you'll never find a way home
you're gonna spin out of control
here, hear the way the players change
near where i reach the end of my range
when i sing, i think of my limitations
in my dreams i've still got that hesitation
but maybe i was wrong
maybe this is just a song
in the same coin, when you feel it you can really love
but that's the main point- can you feel it, can you really love?
my head is stuck in sand
there is no ocean there is no band
i am stranded
now that i'm old
where do my hands go?
i have been told
if you're not careful
you'll never find a way home
you're gonna spin out of control
i remember hovering
stop tap dancing and start shovelling
i remember floating
stop pining and start loathing
so, hold me just a little bit longer
no, that sinking feeling is getting stronger
