I've grown sick, I've grown sick as hell of hearing you spit your words as I watch you hide

How does it feel to be all you've wanted to be?

How does it feel to bury your pain?

To be complacent?

Pick me, pick me up off the ground

And tell me, tell me more about the peace you've found

And even if I had an ounce of faith and reached out and prayed to you, you wouldn't even bother answering

So come down from the clouds

Pressure, pressure won't move me

And even if I had an ounce of faith and reached out and prayed to you, you wouldn't even bother answering

So come down from the clouds

I'll release myself and put faith in the branches to break my fall

And when I hit the ground I'd like to let you know I've finally found a place to rest my head