Creatures of Habit

I know the signs
The room is damp with silence
Mould settling on our lips
Your head stuck inside a moment
I made you cry
We'll talk about our lives
We'll plot our early graves
And hate what we have made
One day I'll think up a thought
I'll let go
One day I'll make up a song
And we'll go
And so we sit here quietly
Each tick an act of violence
And hope that we'll surpass
Things made to last
Oh, I hate the silence
The parent of assumption
But truth is never just words
It carries so much hurt
One day I'll think up a thought
I'll let go
One day I'll make up a song
And we'll go
One day I'll lift up the world
And let go
I've been swallowing all of my life
Now I make the time to cry