This place was never my home
I was one of the statues.
The grey was filling senses,
Killing time, waiting for time's turn
We're never growing old
We are collecting lines.
We're never growing old
We are making moments
We're never growing old
We are losing things.
We're never growing old
We're just made of dust
The stairs are just as long as twenty years ago.
Each step hurts
Is this how it goes?
The thought of one more hand
Lifting off the weight.
It breaks me.
These scars
These pictures
These broken bones
They are life
They are life as it goes
We're never growing old
We are collecting lines.
We're never growing old
We are making moments
We're never growing old
We are forgetting things
We're never growing old
We're just made of dust.