she always trembles at the blissfully depressednndesiring the desire-lessnnshe's always searching for herself in someone elsennlonely when she's all she needsnnshe'll cry a thousand paper tearsnnand throw down her kerosene of vacant fearsnnwe're all the match wishing we were the flamennwe represent each moment in every daynnhe always trembles at the thought of getting oldnnrunning out of time and ideasnnhe's always waiting for the moment to be rightnnimpatient when it's always therennhe'll take a thousand empty pillsnnand swallow the void that they'll never fillnnhe's go to break out no matter what the costnnwe represent all the ones who feel lostnncos we're all the same worn, empty cupnnwe're never content, but we never give upnnjumping off cliffs, opening our arms and hoping to flynnrunning around the same old tracknnnever getting any closer, but we never look backnnwe're just trying to leavennbehind something beautifulnnbefore we've gone