In a state of mind half-a-world away, split apart from day to day. The thought of switching grooves, a sudden swing of moods, Then somehow everything changed. Drastic differences in song, severed tunes now sung A full-circled hymn, a body rebuilding it's tired right from wrong. It's always wrong. Life, I was sick of a verse, it couldn't get much worse. I was caving in. Then my words dropped out of the sky, out of the odd summer night. I am the song. Now my darkest days are half a world away, worlds away. There were no choruses allowed. There was dust spewed from the mouth. The scent of growing old, a rushing surge of cold, A never-ending cloud. There were beautiful bridges burning thin. All of the melodies sinking in, the thought of switching skin. The need to make it out, I gotta make it out But it's always wrong. Life, I was sick of a verse, it couldn't get much worse. I was caving in. Then my words dropped out of the sky, out of the odd summer night. I am the song. Now my darkest days are... Half a world away, worlds away.