Crooked, narrow, dark and steep, with every step, I pray to keep
My footing on the brink of the abyss
Out there on a quest to find a million ways to lose my mind
I couldn't seem to shake the thought of this
Can we write a story backwards?
Can we start it at the end?
Are we born to die or dying to be born again?
Didn't mean to take this ride, with so much fear and pain inside
I figured I'd just burn it to the ground
'Cause I've been in the wind so long to turn my head and face the dawn
Would mean I'd have to turn this ship around
Can we write a story backwards?
Can we start it at the end?
Are we born to die or dying to be born again?
Are we dying
To be born again?
Are we dying?
Can we write a story backwards?
Can we start it at the end?
Are we born to die or dying to be born again?
To be born again
Crooked, narrow, dark and steep, with every step, I pray to keep
My footing on the brink of the abyss
