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Description
Sometimes I don't know if I'm coming or going,
the lines blur the words,
I start to question the wheel of life,
things start to bellow and slur.

I knew I was never meant to understand it.
I was never meant to talk back.
The echo lies in the heartache,
the sounds don't sound as clear.
It's an ocean of fear just melting,
it's the thought that you were never meant to hear.

If I could turn the clocks back about half a step,
maybe I could prevent the mist that comes with a breath in snow.
The strokes of my paintbrush wouldn't be so blue,
but I can't change anything,
it has everything to do with you.

Description
Sometimes I don't know if I'm coming or going,
the lines blur the words,
I start to question the wheel of life,
things start to bellow and slur.

I knew I was never meant to understand it.
I was never meant to talk back.
The echo lies in the heartache,
the sounds don't sound as clear.
It's an ocean of fear just melting,
it's the thought that you were never meant to hear.

If I could turn the clocks back about half a step,
maybe I could prevent the mist that comes with a breath in snow.
The strokes of my paintbrush wouldn't be so blue,
but I can't change anything,
it has everything to do with you.