When you're running out

And you hear them coming like an army loud

No time for packing

When you're running out

You fall to the ground

But you're holding on.

Is this called home?

Light turns to dust

This could be home

Time's running out for us.

Now my head is sore

When no one's around

To help me feel you

Am I monster?

Did I deserve all of those words?

'cause I still believe.

Is this called home?

Light turns to dust

This could be home

Time's running out for us.

Let me hold your hand

Let me hold your hand

Let me hold your hand

Let me hold your hand

Let me hold your hand

Let me hold your hand

Let me hold your hand

Let me hold your hand.