Running out of 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
make me out to be this helpless child of misery, Maybe love is what I need But not your
In and out of space, I'm always somewhere in between, I try to make commands But instead I make mess of for me
I try paint by numbers, But nothing's black and white to me
Don't make me to be this helpless child of misery, Maybe love is what I need But not your sympathy
Nothing and no can make your lies the truth, and no can stand inside your shoes but you
Don't make me out to be this helpless child misery, Maybe love is what I need But not sympathy But not your sympathy