I got too many dreams and not enough daylight Too much to do that's too hard to do right Too far to go and not enough footsteps Too much to build and not enough wood left We die with dreams still in our pockets With years we've chased but haven't caught yet We hold the thread until we drop it And run I go walking in the woods and hoping it'll make me A little less like a ghost and more like a baby A little less tired and a little more righteous A little better pointed at whichever way the light is We die with plans still in our pockets With tattered pictures in our wallets We hold the thread until we drop it And run We die with love ungiven Still tucked up in its prison So pull me close and kiss me Some more