I kinda tripped along the way
It just seemed like a nasty hassle
The path was greener on the one less traveled
People so high they think
I can't hear the whispers
I can see it falling off their face
Their trying to shoot down my plane of grace
It seems like it's already hard enough
But the paint on me is beginning to dry
And it's not what I wanted to be
Is Hanging on to a weary angel
So tell me what it is about me
Where did everybody go without me
And watch the sunrise like it's a big surprise
Life moved and I stopped to taste it
I drank it up till it left me wasted
Oh you should see the world inside my head
And try to wrap around my dreamer
I feel better when I paint my days
Strange is just a different point of view
But the paint on me is starting to dry
And it's not what I wanted to be
Is holding onto a weary angel
I feel better when I paint my days
Strange is just a different point of view
But the pain on me is beginning to dry
And it's not what I want it to be