Gold turned into stone

Wish that it would show that i would

Been sinking so low oh no

Dead ends in a start

We never get far show that is has

No meaning in it all oh no

So many emptys to fill

My trembling hands can't help from my beginning

Slighty defected not one happened

Selling your stories not one happened

Whenever your wasted

Your not in my hands

Your in some other persons hands

Whenever your wasted

Your not in my hands

Your in some other persons hands

Lines drawn on a map

Points us to go where we have been

Already we've been so low

Friends talking of you

Saying bad things but its the things

Your thinking of you oh no

Throw me line if you will

My trembling hands can't hold the truth you telling

Overly wasted not one happened

Under productive not one happened

Whenever your sorry

Your not in my hands

Your in some other defect hands

Whenever your sorry

Your not in my hands

Your in some other defect hands

Whenever your sorry

Your not in my hands

Your in some other defect hands

Whenever your sorry

Your not in my hands

Your in some slighty defect hands