you're born with an outline its you're way to ink it in looks like the crimson king pushed it to the brink again while you're ship sets sail you row with broken oars two thousand... what ever no room for closing open doors i hope you hope for more but that hard went cold blame it on the weather remember when we wanted something better, ah~ whatever its a new year and thank god that you're here i know the wings are getting heavy i wrote this in a mood and i carved it in tomb as real as it could ever get as real as it could surely tell you you're so plug in but so out of tune time to change the station better yet change their shape stacked like sardines in a stacked city scape but here we are tonight we are the lights we are the bright escape plan, Minnesota cold sholders where i come from young solider on its own bang a big drum im nothing like a phenomenon its the same two step i press on and on young lucky that im still alive i should have died i should have been the one i hope i see you on the other side soon as i saw the lights i caught a bike and tonight ill grab hold and bring the rest into my life