Right now, the silence speaks to me. 
Well there's a hundred welts in bed sheets in a place I'd 
rather be. 
Instead I'm struggling just to drive, 
fighting battles against thoughts that no nothing of 
compromise.
One thing among them helps me to survive
That you've stuck by me through it all

I get the point, the beds been made, 
But you know where I stand. 
I need to hear it from your eyes. 
The ceiling turns a blind eye on our conversation and I 
realise. 
I fucking swear we'll make it through.

Fuelled by a lack of sense and all regrets. 
I've crashed and burned a million times before but what 
did you expect? 
Now there's a reason I stick out my neck.