I must have done something
Real heinous in my past life to be suffering
For these years on top of years and I've found nothing
And hid the purest parts of myself and for what then
For you
For you to never care it's never been fair
I'm acting like the world's been promised me
To be taken and wasted
I'm not asking for much, just a little sign

Sick of crossing my fingers
As my flesh turns into callouses
I've been given a vision
Of a drought that sets it for the rest of time
And I cross my heart and hope to die
And that's just fine, but why
Cross this river when you know what's on the other side

If another decade goes on by this brain just won't forget
I need a prize, I need a prize
Not another consequence