A Maker of My Time - The Paper Kites

Held up here, it's a silent fear

And this space don't take my mind

A cloudy wake, it's a young mistake

That I'm clothed in

I can't see when I filled with sleep

It's a golden dream of mine

But when I rise with my morning eyes

It's all spoken

Wait, don't drown it in the waterhole

Taste, the feeling of a fever soul

All in all I need to get me through

I still stir, such a war of words

I'm a maker of my time

I feeble man with a broken plan

Oh I'm loathing

Make my bed on the great unsaid

And my meekness sends me low

I stood fair, but you still weren't there

So you've chosen

Wait, don't drown it in the waterhole

Taste, the feeling of a fever soul

All in all I need to get me through