Young Rebel Set Follow

There is a ghost upon my lips of which whose taste I can't resist to call upon each time I miss that touch of grace that I long to feel again. Is there something I don't realize a hides behind that bed of lies; that calls me back down to my knees; that holds me down and won't let me up again? Cos I've been here 3 times before, to pick my heart up off the floor and I don't think I can take one more and I sure as hell won't go go back there again. Even as I try to shake these shackles from my arms everything about this should be ringing bells alarm saying don't go back there; don't get mixed up; don't get knotted down cos you wonÄt get up again. Move yourself into the eyes of all those lovers you despise then you can say with an open heart that you got knocked down but got straight back up again. Carry me not your arms until those silent bells alarm, of which your eyes can not disguise. YOu will always woe that the next days sun will rise. Impossible is just a word - the most ridiculous I've heard to leave your lips up to this date, 'lets give it all up and leave it up to fate.'