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