This paint has been tasting of lead 
& their chips will fall as they may, 
but it's not just my finish that is peeling, 
& it is not alone fleeing these walls. 
 
Well sooner of later this cold 
it's gonna break 
& our hands will be warm again, 
but all I want is not to need you now. 
And sooner or later this cold 
it's gonna break 
& our words will be heard again, 
but all I want are vows of silence now. 
 
This turpentine chaser's got kick 
& the rag that it's soaked in is rich. 
The fumes aide the pace of my cleaning 
& as soon as I'm done I am gone. 
 
The frightening facts 
we've been facing our backs 
for so long now 
are begging for eyes 
to bear witness to lies 
& indifference. 
 
Now we're saying aloud 
the things we've declared in our silence. 
The new coats of paint will not reaquaint 
broken hearts to broken homes. 
 
 
[Thanks to  limpbizkitlvr229@hotmail.com  for these lyrics]