The only limits we set what can we get away with? in that at least we're the same the only way we find of hiding the hurt we feel is more unnecessary pain each time you draw in like a breath it comes out like a knife you feel like offering yourself out tonight on what a fight the little you can expect to get to get from anyone else makes you look after number one the only helping hand you'll ever be offered is the one at the end of your own arm draw in like a breath it goes tight like a wire you're trying to shout but your lungs are on fire draw in like a breath it comes out like a knife you feel like offering yourself