My dying world Is crying for redemption My tired world Is running for protection from itself My losing world Is scrounging up ways to survive the ruin My lying world Is making up reasons to live without You
While You say, "Closer to me is where you really should be." You say, "Closer to me is the way you are meant (were made) to be."
My shaken world Buckles 'neath the pressure My shapeless world, My soul, without a center My drowning world With nothing but seas without shores around me My crumbling world Is falling in pieces (brittle and boken) from being without You
While You say, "Closer to me is where you really should be." You say, "Closer to me is the way you are meant (were made) to be."
