I think it's called survival

So I'm gonna fall, and fall, and fall
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
We are who we love, and what we do with what we're given
and what we put in to the world is who we become
Time is a machine that makes us, and we leave and exit each others
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 other's 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
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 we'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