Running out of breath
Chasing down the big parade
Rising up my hand
Thought I'd beg the marching band to play, for me
All of these illusions
They really mean the world to me, to me

Don't make me out to be this helpless child of misery
Maybe love is all I need
But not your sympathy

In and out of s___e
I'm always somewhere in between
I try to make commands
But instead I make a mess of things, for me

I try to paint by numbers
But nothing's black and white to me

Don't make me out to be this helpless child of misery
Maybe love is what I need
But not your sympathy

Nothing and no one can make your lies the truth
and no one can stand inside my shoes

Don't make me out to be this helpless child of misery
Maybe love is what I need
But not your sympathy
But not your sympathy

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