I Think It's Called Survival

And not hold on, hold on, hold on
Let go!
All we ever will become is what we give away
And give away, and give away, and give away
And give away and give away oh
You are who you love
And what you do with what you’re given
And what you put in to the world is who you become
Time is a machine that makes us
And we leave and exit each other’s
And leave and exit life like blood pumping
It makes the heart grow
There’s a kind of history we make
Smashing against each other
Our hands filled with each others hands
Filled with purpose
And I think it’s called survival
Even if our scars don’t match
There’s no wrong you can’t make better
If you can figure out a way to change your mind
And sure there’s things I regret not doing or doing
Sometimes those thoughts climb my spine like spiders
And then I’m really the stranger in my own bed
And that ball of nervous gets pushed into every crack
That’s what’s holding the bricks together
But the answers aren’t around us they are in us
And sure the bullets still in there
But I’m moving
And I think that’s called survival
Well I want to pretend for a few more hours and a few more days until we forget
what we’re pretending for
What are we pretending for?
We aren’t pretending anymore
Because we might not ever get to go back home again
And home might not exist the way we know it
Or knew it to be
Or maybe it’ll be so different home won’t be able to house us
Especially if we keep pulling all the feathers from our wings
But no matter how unraveled or what shape we take
We can always come home
Home inside of people and God
The way you lean is the way you fall
The way you lead is the way you follow