Every moment makes this year grow longer, every second of moving on from here. But now I’m not afraid, to say it to your face, I'm done with your childish games. My grip is becoming numb, and I’m running out of luck. I can't grasp what you've become, but I’ve decided I’ve had enough. This winter has never felt colder, and I’m afraid I’m starting to sober up to the fact, that we're holding back all this potential. My grip is becoming numb, and I’m running out of luck. I can't grasp what you've become, but I’ve decided I’ve had enough. I’m still young, and I still want to set the world on fire. But turn the ashes that we make, into a stable place, for me and my friends. To build a home in, to grow up in, to grow old in, to take your words in, and let this start again. My grip is becoming numb, and I’m running out of luck. I can't grasp what you've become, but I’ve decided I’ve had enough.
