Type Three de Anberlin

I have my reasons for the vices I embrace
A world of treasons and I'm there only escape
No one else here has conversations that drowned their head
16 is nothing and never will be til I am dead

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, baby
Take hold the hands that need you lately
I don’t want to wait, I don't want to wait on you anymore
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, baby

Daydream that the world stands still
Dancing through the fibers of time
Maybe I just want to hold something that was never meant to be mine
I look to heaven to save me and you call me naïve
Rather be a hopeless lover than cursed with disbelief

Listen carefully now to the words that I choose
Speak only when you are spoken to