Running out of breath down the big parade, Rising up my hand, Thought I'd beg marching band to play, for me All of these illusions, They really mean the world to me, me
Don't make me out to be this child of misery, Maybe love is what I need But not your sympathy
In out of space, I'm always somewhere in between, I try to make commands But instead make a mess things, for me
I try paint by numbers, But nothing's black and white to me
Don't make me out to be this helpless child of misery, love is what I But not your sympathy
Nothing and no one can make your lies the truth, and no one can stand inside your shoes but you
Don't make out to be this helpless child misery, Maybe love is what I need But your sympathy But not your sympathy