someone s taken the boy from your face traded your eyes for those that have seen the shade of your innocence consumed in heat you put your hands in your pockets buried as deep as they will go you re gonna find a reason you won t be at the show i can see the patterns i can feel the repetition youre hurting something s perched there on the steeple you let your eyes follow it away kick the rocks down the road theres no use to pray some days you won t remember but most days you can t forget how they pulled you from the water separated from the rest who makes these rules whos keeping tab youre looking for answers where theres none to be had i can see the patterns i can feel the repetition youre hurting its gonna be alright its gonna be alright someone s taken the boy from your face traded your eyes for those that have seen