Parachute

A tourist in the trenches

Only suffers for so long

Forfeiting present tenses

For the sake of sadder songs

Trying to number every birthmark

Hoping it makes sense

When you draw the lines

Pretend that I'm fine

I swear that I'm fine

Feed my common sense to animals

Make things better for something else

Put up a wooden cross

To take my thoughts

To feel more uncertain of myself

I feel uncertain of myself

I pray for second chances

But I'm always wasting time

I've been told it doesn't wait for me

And for the first time that doesn't feel like a lie

I might not feel it in the morning

I might be laughing in a year

But I only care 'bout how I feel right now

And it hurts like hell right here

If you were a chasm

And not a parachute

Maybe it would hurt less