Washed in With

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The Wayside

The Wayside is a historic house in Concord, Massachusetts. The earliest part of the home may date to 1717. Later it successively became the home of the young Louisa May Alcott and her family, who named it Hillside, author Nathaniel Hawthorne and his family, and children's writer Margaret Sidney. It became the first site with literary associations acquired by the National Park Service and is now open to the public as part of Minute Man National Historical Park. more »

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Pick up the pieces 
So many friends 
Are being washed in with 
All the thoughts in my head 
And I can't, but I do 
And I won't, but I will 
While everybody breaks me
And I can't see 
My eyes are blinded 
How can this be
My life is twisted 
So now, as I lay out in the old dirt road 
Singing to myself, I think of home 
I am free, but this is not the dream 
(No it's never enough) 

You said you had my back 
And then you took it back 
No it's never enough

Over and over 
Again, again 
Over and over 
Again, again 

Words hold weight 
And I took the bait 
Thinking you'd never hurt me
But you're killing me slowly
Least not last 
It's in the past 
But I'll never forget 
Russian roulette 

Pick up the pieces 
So many friends 
Are being washed in with 
All the thoughts in my head 
And I can't, but I do 
And I won't, but I will 
While everybody breaks me
And I can't see 
My eyes are blinded 
How can this be
My life is twisted 
So now, as I lay out in the old dirt road 
Singing to myself, I think of home 
I am free, but this is not the dream 
(No it's never enough) 

I want to run away 
To a better place 
I've had enough
All the things that you put me through 
I've had enough

Over and over 
Again, again 
Over and over 
Again, again 

Words hold weight 
And I took the bait 
Thinking you'd never hurt me
But you're killing me slowly
Least not last 
It's in the past 
But I'll never forget 
Russian roulette

Pick up the pieces 
So many friends 
Are being washed in with 
All the thoughts in my head 
And I can't, but I do 
And I won't, but I will 
While everybody breaks me
And I can't see 
My eyes are blinded 
How can this be
My life is twisted 
So now, as I lay out in the old dirt road 
Singing to myself, I think of home 
I am free, but this is not the dream 
(No it's never enough) 

Over and over
(Again, again)
Again

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