Racing With a Beating Heart

If everyone was looking
With the past held like a gun
Waiting for the wind to blow
Drunk with expectations
Of the stars and setting sun
How much could they really know?
Facing through the stands
And finding how to figure it out
Resting with the ocean
In a wildflower dream
The sand seas every feeling swell
In the night the waves, a movie screen
The yellow moon, the guillotine
Falling for a tale to tell
Arrows of the after, daring through the dawn
Racing with a beating heart
I can see you were
Dancing in the palm of my hand
The tide and the terror are nothing sacred
Other seasons I don’t understand
Following forever, maybe I can follow you home
For every tree that bears regrets
Its colors fail for spring
A thousand bones of memory
When leaves grow green with youthful hope
The birds of promise sing
Remember how you used to be
Bearing on the winters
Raging in the souls of the lost
Redeeming grace of summer rain
When grass grows tall and free
Soak the ray is fading fast
When blossoms blooming proudly
Full of fortune, it’ll see
That nothing is supposed to last
Lighting in the sky, hold everything you love
Racing with beating heart
I can see you were
Dancing in the palm of my hand
The tide and the terror are nothing sacred
Other seasons I don’t understand
Following forever, maybe I can follow you home, home
Anchored in the moment, daring through the dawn
Racing the with a beating heart
I can see you were
Dancing in the palm of my hand
The tide and the terror are nothing sacred
Other seasons I don’t understand
Racing the with a beating heart
I can see you were
Dancing in the palm of my hand
The tide and the terror are nothing sacred
Other seasons I don’t understand
Racing with a beating heart
I can see you were
Dancing in the palm of my hand
The tide and the terror are nothing sacred
Other seasons I don’t understand
Racing with a beating heart (racing with a beating heart)
I can see you were
I can see you were
Tide and there terror are nothing sacred (nothing sacred)
Another season (another season, another)
Racing with a beating heart
I can see you were
Dancing in the palm of my hand
(continues)