The Paper Kites - A Maker Of My Time

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