For those that labor to breathe
For those who wobble in constant degrees
And the edges don't quite meet
They sold all they've known
And for what expense
To crawl through this pinhole
They're burned by their own wishes
To what extent
Can a man keep picking the same lock
He'll keep on it
With a willingness
You can lie in the middle of the street
And shout one hundred times a day
They will wince to hear it
Put some blood in your cheeks
And shout
To what extent
Can a man keep picking the same lock
He'll keep on it
With a willingness
Lie say want go with no rest
Locked in these walls
Keep on it with a willingness