I put my faith in the absence of something better
if it doesn't fit then its out of reach for me
I'm a tightly wound mess neatly perched inside my
own distress and you talk of freedom that means
nothing to me and then you say how we ever gonna
know if there's something better is the only way
to know ourselves to go too far I spend my days
in a fear one day a wind will blow me away the
only thing that keeps me here are these strings
of mine that hold me down I watch the rise and
fall of a thousand days it means nothing to me
cause I've been promised redemption for a life
time wasted in these golden fields so far so good
so many promises swinging in the wind directions
something that I can't control creation eludes me
its all just waiting time here in this field
nothing but a scarecrow waiting for the world to
tear me down
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