(Verse 1)
I’ve been the water, I’ve been the sand
Taking the shape of a heavier hand
I’ve practiced the art of the quiet retreat
Tracing the patterns of dust at my feet
But the walls are moving in, inches at a time
And silence is starting to look like a crime.
(Pre-Chorus)
My knuckles are white on the edge of the shelf
I’m losing the war with my gentler self
The peace I was keeping is starting to rot
And I’m measuring out every ounce that I’ve got.
(Chorus)
Do I break the glass? Do I hold the line?
Is the blood on the floor yours or mine?
There’s a bridge in the distance I’m ready to burn
A lesson in mercy I’m trying to unlearn
To stand like a mountain or snap like a reed
How much of my soul am I willing to bleed?
(Verse 2)
You’re counting on shadows, you’re counting on fear
But the air in the room is beginning to clear
I’ve gathered the bruises like stones in a coat
And the "sorry" is stuck in the back of my throat
There’s a fork in the road where the lightning has struck
And I’m tired of trusting in nothing but luck.
(Pre-Chorus)
Yeah, my knuckles are white on the edge of the shelf
I’m done making excuses for someone else
The peace I was keeping is starting to rot
And I’m giving away every ounce that I’ve got.
(Chorus)
Do I break the glass? Do I hold the line?
Is the blood on the floor yours or mine?
There’s a bridge in the distance I’m ready to burn
A lesson in mercy I’m trying to unlearn
To stand like a mountain or snap like a reed
How much of my soul am I willing to bleed?
(Bridge)
I’m weighing the cost of a closed-fisted hand
Against all the mercy that I can command
If I choose to strike, do I lose who I was?
Or am I just answering nature’s own laws?
The ghost of my kindness is begging to stay
But the wolf at the door won't just wander away.
(Guitar Solo)
(Chorus)
Oh, I’m breaking the glass, I’m holding the line
The blood on the floor is no longer mine
There’s a bridge in the distance I’m watching it burn
That lesson in mercy is finally unlearned
I’ll stand like a mountain, I won’t be the reed
No matter how much of my soul has to bleed.
(Outro)
The weight of the hand...
The line in the sand...
I’m taking it back.
I’m taking it back.
Rituendon
