I got too many dreams and not enough daylight
Too much to do that's too hard to do right
Too far to go and not enough footsteps
Too much to build and not enough wood left
We die with dreams still in our pockets
With years we've chased but haven't caught yet
We hold the thread until we drop it
And run
I go walking in the woods and hoping it'll make me
A little less like a ghost and more like a baby
A little less tired and a little more righteous
A little better pointed at whichever way the light is
We die with plans still in our pockets
With tattered pictures in our wallets
We hold the thread until we drop it
And run
We die with love ungiven
Still tucked up in its prison
So pull me close and kiss me
Some more