Because This Is How We Speak

i would say that we saw this coming
if i thought it would change a thing
but at some point, we all stop running
some finish the race while some save their strength
and a day is coming soon when the banner of youth
will be dropped somewhere between
writing songs in our parents basement
and basing our lives on what they mean

so if this is the last time
leave it all under these lights
we've played out our lives on these stages
just to be buried with pages of songs left unsung
this is the last time

give us something to take home
a last line to sing
cause these half empty glasses
with stress cracks and fractures
can only grow so weak
before they break and spill out a dead language
that we've forgotten how to speak

and this is the last time
we'll all hang for the same crime
we buried the axe in the walls of these old village halls
just to claim that we were there
and this is the last time

(better to sink than to yield
better to lay down the shield
better to claim what we can
than be surprised when it ends
better to guess where we're going
the glass house before the throwing
better to know when to run
then face what we all become)

so raise, raise your glass to the ones
who gave their youth
so we could sing along

and this is the last time
you'll hear me apologize
i'll be that rope that you tied
'round your wrist to remind you
what idle hands have done.
and this is the last time.