Entitled

If I named the wind, would I value the breeze
More than any words you've said to me?
Our thoughts run in streams, an unquieting ease
As actions remain as yet unclaimed
To lock on specifics would only make me unsure
A paranoid example of the post-twenty-four
Are you older or wiser when you appropriate signs
For just another youth culture that you're synthesizing?
No!

I want an explosion
Something that I can call my own
I'll swell as a filament to snap
I'll burn with heat at my back
Like a word to mend or a heart to hold
Heart to mend, a heart to hold
Sometimes, yeah

To burn and sweat
To burn and sweat
To burn and sweat
To burn and sweat

Can't gather affects as I walk through the school
Stripped of all young arrogance
If I kept to my own, would I wonder (yeah)
How history touches the ideal jet set?
But the learned, they try to prove me wrong, cynicism's a put down
Should I put down what I put down?
If I kept to my own, would I wonder?
Would I wonder?

And will I still crave explosions
When I'm unsure what to call my own?
Will I swell with new heat and snap?
Will I burn with heat at my back
As a heart to mend or a heart to hold?
Sometimes I [?]
Sometimes no

To burn incense
To burn incense
To burn incense
To burn incense