Hands in LineArms close to my sideI'm fighting tides Of an ocean's undertowAnd I
figure that I might not make itI'm taking empty but seldom speakingAnd the words
retreatYeah, they breath in historiesStill at easeAnd the story's untoldAnd my
arms unfoldMy hands are highAnd I'm holding on, I'm holding outAnd i figure
that iFigure that I just might make itAnd I'm waking empty but seldom
sleepingAnd the words repeat breathing historiesInto stories untold but I
unfoldSee now quality is what you see nowIn the corner of your eyeAnd don't be
surprisedIf you hear the bells ring As they form from the skyThey sound bong,
bong, bong, bong, ba daYea yea bong, bong, bong,bong ba da yea, yeaAnd I'm
always holding onANd I'm already holding outSaid I'm holding out your sideAnd
I'm holding out this timeCause I figure that I, and I figure that IJust might
make it and I'mWaking empty but seldom sleepingAnd the words repeat breathin
histories untoldBut I unfold