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Insanity
Tell me one more story,
Like the ones we used to share.
I’d love to hear the stories behind those scars
And I’m sure I’d never get tired of listening.Like the ones we used to share,
These new hopes I’ve dreamt up mean everything to me.
And I’m sure I’d never get tired of listening
To the sweet sound of my own regret.These new hopes I’ve dreamt up mean everything to me
Even when I know that they’re not mine to keep.
To the sweet sound of my own regret,
I march through the hustle and bustle of everyday.Even when I know they’re not mine to keep,
I hold on to my dreams for dear life.
I march through the hustle and bustle of everyday
Knowing that somewhere, someday, we will meet again.I hold on to my dreams for dear life—
Without them, what else would I be?
Knowing that somewhere, someday, we will meet again
Is enough to keep me going—for now, at least.Without them, what else would I be?
These little, over-thought-of responses, those awkward glances
Are enough to keep me going—for now, at least.
Who’s to say that tomorrow won’t be different?These little over-thought-of responses, those awkward glances
Are all I can offer you, and all you can offer me.
Who’s to say that tomorrow won’t be different?
Nobody can tell.All I can offer you, and all you can offer me
Are two very different things.
Nobody can tell
That I bleed for you every single day.Two very different things,
Your love, and mine.
I bleed for you every single day,
Yet you come and go as you please.Your love, and mine,
Are told in different forms, in countless stories.
You come and go as you please,
And all I can do is wait.Told in different forms, in countless stories,
You’d imagine nothing new could come out of this.
Yet all I can do is wait,
Until your voice reaches me again.And I’m sure I’d never get tired of listening—
I’d still love to hear the stories behind those scars.
To the sweet sound of my own regret,
Tell me one more story.—
“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” —Albert Einstein
