so hold on its more than I can take
can't save you everyday
it can't always be your way
(I can't right your mistakes)

there is a box and it remains unopened
you have two fears fingers crossed
and you're hoping that you won't be that ordinary
that it won't be long

there is a paper in your pocket
you that was chosen by the guilty
with gavels they have spoken
and there's a stutter in your step
that won't let you forget

we'll take this to our graves
that's all that I can say
there's comfort in the quiet scene
providing lines to read between
and these hallowed halls and postered covered walls
aren't enough for you to see what I mean

we'll take this to our grave, there's little left to say
it would be fatal anyway, it really is that simple