Running out of breath 
Chasing down the big parade 
Rising up my hand 
Thought I'd beg the 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 helpless child of misery
Maybe love is what I need
But not your sympathy

In and out of space 
I'm always somewhere in between, 
I try to make commands 
But instead I make a mess of 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, 
Maybe love is what I need
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 me out to be this helpless child misery, 
Maybe love is what I need
But not your sympathy
But not your sympathy