we hope that you're still doin well   by the sound of your voice i can tell   theres no where that you'd rather be   than out on those busy streets   but carefull those colors will change   how quickly that blue turns to grey      (i bet you they won't let you leave)      where strangers speak through their crooked teeth all beggin for change   while the girls in skirts with their dirty words all shiver and shake   where boys are ghosts and they sell their clothes for the things that they take   we trace our names onto empty graves and pray for the rain to wash this away      yea wash this away      i cut letters and pictures from books   to remember how we used to look   but no matter the shape of it, it won't ever fit   not like the photos they took   well i can still fit you into a frame   pretendin that nothing has changed   but just like your brittle bones   i've grown thin you know   and i'm sick of waiting for snow      ya i couldn't wait for the spring   to pack up the rest of my things   no, it took the winter cold   and i a wind to blow   to show me where i need to go   i'm so sick of these songs of hope   could someone sing something i know?   one in a dreary key, with a clumsy beat   someone thats singing for me      where strangers speak through their crooked teeth all beggin for chanve   while girls in skirts with their dirty words all shiver and shake   where boys are ghosts and they sell their clothes for the drugs that they take   we trace our names onto empty graves and pray for the rain to wash this away      come wash this away      we hope that you're still doin well   by the sound of your voice i can tell   there's no where that you'd rather be   than out on those dirty streets      i bet you they won't let you leave