A picture on the wall, like a postcard with a better view of,
all the things collected from room 209
Diana sips from an empty glass of hope she poured last night
the clouds above reflect the shape of all she's got to leave behindWe always think there's something better in the place where we are not
the dreams the reality of it all, nobody's happy where there at and we
all want to be sombody elseAnother scribbled stationary book of lies,
another staged confession that just goes unheard
Harry detriot in 304 made one last promise now,
"I'm going out without a trace, a vanishing act before your eyes"
Nobody wants what they've got and what they've got is not enough
the dreams the reality of it all, a lighter shade, a greener grass
maybe if I believe it so then i'll be homeHere I go uncertain that what I find is what I want, the best for me is everything
I reach for the same as what I'm running from
I guess i'll never, guess i'll never know
Is it the struggle that we live for, is it keeping us alive
to breathe, to want, know, love
Just one more day, just one more way
here I go, I'm half the way home, half the way home, half the way home
