At the rate that I've been going I can't breathe again A falcon flying through the trees Some of us leave But you'll stay I saw it in your face Don't let up It'll get rough Don't cross us We'll be in the woods Telephone Wanna go home It gets old No one ever told us it'd take so damn long If all of this isn't a dream And all is never as it seems And all of this is history Well, I'm tired and tongue-tied Flying through the trees