Stories

歌詞

With hardened hands make a fist and take down, With one desperate hit you're building and shaping the hate that you feel. You're scratching out memories you're burning old stories, Twenty-one years of bearing the cross six months away. A mother has lost the youngest of three ungrateful unworthy of any pride, It's not what you have love it's just what you lack. Give up this act give it a rest, It's time to come home it's time to move back cause' I know you're not waiting on me. I hope you don't think that I'm letting go, So I look at myself and ask what good would come from this shell, But I can't say if any at all from here on out there's no point on dwelling On the fact that you put these conditions on a love that we had both given up.