I'm sick of shaking hands I'm feeling how to weather I can't count the ways That we've become untethered But I can limp right back I'll put things back together If you're gone, it's alright The rose is on the vine And I was made to march on 'Til the end of me I'd blow away your tears And suffer for your pleasure I've been tossed around before And lost just like a feather So I will limp right back I'll put things back together If you're gone, it's alright The rose is on the vine And I was made to march on 'Til the end of me Through sickness and in health These friends I know so well Playin' blame Needs to satisfy Through sickness and in health These friends I know so well Playin' blame Needs to satisfy I'm sick of shaking hands I'm feeling how to weather I can't count the ways That we've become untethered But I can limp right back I'll put things back together If you're gone, it's alright The rose is on the vine And I was made to march on 'Til the end of me