Lucky

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