Was that somebody screaming.... It wasn't me for sure. I lift my head up from uneasy pillows. Put my feet on the floor. Cut my wrist on a bad thought. And head for the door. Outside on the pavement. The dark makes no noise. I can feel the sweat on my lips. Leaking into my mouth. I'm heading out for the steep hills. They're leaving me no choice. And see... as our lives are in the making;. We believe through the lies and the hating. That love goes free. For want of an option. I run the wind 'round. I dream pictures of houses burning. Never knowing nothing else to do. With death comes the morning. Unannounced and new. Was it too much to ask for. To pull a little weight.... They forgive anything but greatness. These are scoundrel days. And I'm close to calling out their names. As pride hits my face. See...as our lives are in the making;. We believe through their lies and the hating. That love goes free through scoundrel days. I reach the edge of town. I've got blood in my hair. Their hands touch my body. From everywhere. But I know that I've made it. As I run into the air. And see... as our lives are in the making;. We believe through the lies and the hating. That love goes free. Through scoundrel days