You tread on me You walk on my memories But I don't feel a thing And I can't All these voices in my head They have no occupants A constant reminder that maybe it's all I am But when it's said and done We're overrun by those thoughts and remnants that we all keep inside That we all keep inside of us ♪ And Heaven, if you hear me Can I sell my soul, for streets of gold? I know I'm not ready to go ♪ We coincide, with what's inside To keep at bay, all those lies And I can feel my heart is slipping Out of my chest And Heaven, if you hear me Can I sell my soul, for streets of gold? I know I'm not ready to go ♪ I can't feel the sun on my skin I'm downtrodden, beaten, worn thin