So many times I've counted pieces,
of broken glass, of broken bits.
I wanna be seated in you.
I wanna fight the war.
Don't wanna taste blood.
Know what I'm fighting for.
No I can't wield that sword.
Cause this war is raging,
and my heart is breaking,
it's funny how it feels so big,
and how I feel so small.
Yet somehow, I'm standing in the creator of it all.
There's no bit too small for you to use.
There's no rock to hard for you to break.
And as my thoughts churn,
and my body shakes,
will it be you I see when I wake?
Will it be you I feel in me?
