This place was never my home I was one of the statues.
The grey was filling senses, Killing time, waiting for time's turn
We're never growing old We are collecting lines. We're never growing old We are making moments We're never growing old We are losing things. We're never growing old We're just made of dust
The stairs are just as long as twenty years ago. Each step hurts Is this how it goes?
The thought of one more hand Lifting off the weight. It breaks me.
These scars These pictures These broken bones They are life They are life as it goes
We're never growing old We are collecting lines. We're never growing old We are making moments We're never growing old We are forgetting things We're never growing old We're just made of dust.
