Polish the broken glass, the dust of your dirty past But every time that you ask, it puts me in spins These are just memories, they don't mean anything How much of this is me and how much is you?
Such is the irony the chains and the shackling All the old garden games binding these two Such is the game we play, we have such a little say In what's worth remembering and what I forget So I choose not to and I choose not to
And tarnish the legacy hobble it at the knees Shred every single page until you can breathe If this is defining you somebody else's view Then after the interview you can give in
Instead I will choose which of the battles I fight For which of the causes I die the people I love save me Which of the battles I fight for which of the causes I die The people I love save me
Which of the battles I fight for which of the causes I die The people I love save me which of the battles I fight For which of the causes I die the people I love save me