I don’t like what I have
I want more than that
As soon as I lay my weapons down
I pick ‘em up again
 
I hope it unfolds
before it blows up         
 
I bury my hands in my pockets
I stretch my arms out to the sky
I bury my hands in my pockets
I stretch my arms out to the sky
I’m drawn like a moth to a flame
But I get to keep away from it
 
I hope it unfolds
before it blows up
 
 
I bury my hands in my pockets
I stretch my arms out to the sky
I bury my hands in my pockets
I stretch my arms out ... to the sky
I’m drawn like a moth to a flame
But I get to keep away from it
 
I hope it unfolds
before it blows up