by VERONA GROVE
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You say youíre scared,
Youíre scared of the fight.
Well I caught myself throwing Punches in my dreams last night.
You think itís okay,
to hide behind the stars,
run from moving cars,
But the ringing in my ears,
reminds me every night.
Tonight youíre okay,
you wish everybodyíd let you work all your pain away.
Screaming from the back of my head,
these dreams will never be dead.
Holding out for revolution.
You call it a dream, you call it a crush.
Youíre screaming in vain, but it donít help much.
You blame it on the weather,
but you donít expect much of December.
You know youíve heard the same excuse before.
Weíre not holding back anything now listen as we sing.
Iím Right behind you miles away
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