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