Are you listening? 
we write a thousand pages, they're torn and on the floor 
headlights hammer the windows, we're locked behind these doors 
and we are never leaving, this place is part of us 
and all these scenes repeating are cold to the touch 

my hands seem to deceive me 
when I'm nervous, when I'm healthy. 
the sceneries are drawn. 

they hang here from the walls dear, 
painting pictures, bleeding colors, 
they're blank at the windows. 

sometimes it gets so hard to breathe. 
your eyes see right through me. 

these fights with your arms left beside. 
it's one thing and one more says goodnight. 
you've got the [bad word] get to me. 
these knuckles break before they bleed. 

tear out these veins that own my heart. 
this skin that wears your lasting marks. 
i've built these [bad word] get to [bad word] get to me. 

is this your lesson, a slight discretion, 
the lines that keep you, the lines that sweep you. 
lock the doors from the inside. 

your face is so contagious, it wears announcements, 
it leaves me breathless, i won't forget this. 
i won't forget

sometimes it gets so hard to breathe
your eyes see right through me
let the walls have their say  (let the walls have their say)...

there's no conversation, words without remorse 
and this television drowns the only source 
wake from these dreams of you in my arms 
to the staircase where you hold my heart 
this place, these walls mean everything to me.