12. WHAT YOU CALL THOUGHT CONTROL, I CALL THOUGHT CONTROL

age is only age until it forgets that youth and life were a currency well spent

in keeping time by stars, the hours never could repent
and i found myself left asking where they went
like erosion on the limestone, we all played the parts we played
and i'm still generously standing in the rain
there's violence at the vatican, our kings are crowned by thieves
and i'll tell you Thomas, things aren't what they seem

maybe we have made mistakes that we don't even know
but your eyes grow wide with dollar signs, and you work with what you're sold

we awoke without our youth
to the beautiful [bad word] [bad word] (that we never knew what you wanted us to)
retracing steps, are these the prints we've left?
a meager crooked path that still circles rest

and it takes all i have just to sit and breathe
and it brings up the differences in you and me
it takes all i have just to sit and breathe
but i'd trade up my lungs for a second shot at twenty-three

(to be in love with love is not enough this time)

holding open hallway doors, i left too much to chance
now i'm sitting empty handed, scaring up a past
there's violins at the vatican, our kings were crowned by thieves
so i'll ask you Thomas, what do you believe?