The red knife comes to mind. The one that bled nothing But rust this time years ago, ages ago. Stuck in the ground by rabbit traps That mark my way back home. Cold days will come faster now, Seems like I'm growing old. And I know no point in all of this. Hard days are wearing me thing, Not, not yet, not yet, And I know no point in all of this. Hard days are wearing me thing, Not, not yet, not, not yet, please. When things were simple, And I was young And there were no real walls. I had dreams about these days And it's funny how things change. "It will be nice to be strong. It will be nice to be proud." "It will be nice to be strong. It will be nice to be proud." But I am still not safe Not safe And I know no point in all of this. Hard days are wearing me thing, Not, not yet, not, not yet, I know no point in all of this. Hard days are wearing me thing, Not, not yet, not, not yet, please