When you're running out And you hear the comment like an army loud No time for packing when you're running out You fall to the ground But you're holding on Is this called home? And turns to dust This can't be home Time's running out for us Now my head is sore And no one's around to help me feel pure Am I the monster? Did I deserve All of those words? Cause I still bleed Is this called home? And turns to dust This can't be home For me Let me hold your hand Let me hold your hand Let me hold your hand Let me hold your hand Let me hold your hand Let me hold your hand Let me hold your hand Let me hold your hand
