My hands are still
Trying to make it through
That's what people do
I'm not trying to look like you
You thought I'd be brave, but I'm still the same
Old memories haunt my hands
The ones I use
To carve in the wood
Your name, old memories they don't bend
They don't bend like you
They don't fade like you do
Someday maybe I'll envy your place
Things in the sandglass tend to turn so bad
While you will never know how it feels to really lose something
I don't have any hero 

You decided to go and that's fine
But now my mother's weeping cause you've been so brave 

Is it irony? Well maybe, guess old memories they don't bend
They don't bend like you
They don't fade like you do
Someday maybe I'll envy your place
Things in the sandglass tend to turn so bad
While you will never know how it feels to really lose something