What I need now is empty, quiet peace;
Distraction from everything.
Shaken from my preoccupation with frenzied commotion, confusing amusement.
I turn to idols to help rescue me from idolatry,
Trading idol for idol til I'm a mess of broken dreams,
With a broken heart that bleeds
Poison I drink to give myself strength
To keep living my death, living my death in agony.
I just wanna get away, wanna leave it all behind.
But when I run I find
It all follows,
Or perhaps I just couldn't leave the hollow
Maybe I deceive myself when I run,
Because its not about what you're leaving but where you're going
And as long as I'm obsessed with what I left or want to leave
Am I really leaving or even wanting to leave?