I’m thinking about you all tonight,
and half of you don’t even know,
won’t even know
that my insomniac ramblings will be about you,
'cause you hardly spare me a glance anymore;
that’s okay—I glance at you guys
enough for it to go both ways and
balance out.

Half of us are mourning and
half of us are singing
and some of us are wondering
what the hell is going on,
so shout your voice among the crowd,
it’s very loud.

Please don’t cry,
please don’t cry.
It’ll all be alright
(Don’t tell me I lied.)

Sometimes I feel like we won’t make it at all
and sometimes it seems like we’ll never even fall a foot,
an inch,
an atom.
So which is it?
Will we last or fall apart,
bind our bones or break our hearts?
Which is it,
guys,
which is it?
Doesn’t anybody know?

It feels like we’ll crash in the middle of the night,
in a crying scream,
a flying dream,
something no one can imagine.
Has there ever been a group like ours before?
Maybe so,
maybe so,
but I don’t know who they are.
And I do know you.

Is it white noise or quiet breathing?
I can’t tell right now.
I cling to the nothingness,
the edge of the sky at midnight,
and you’re always on my mind,
always just my kind,
every one of you.
I love you all,
I love you,
don’t you know that?
And what would I do,
what would I do
without you there to catch me when I fall,
hug me when I bawl,
walk with me while I crawl
and hope not to be bitten from behind?

I fell asleep with tears on my face last night,
and it was all your faults,
all of your faults.
Will you ever stop stalking my dreams
and what will I do when you leave?
Please don't go.

Please don't go.