All these walls are up in arms Making fun of my mistakes Is it time to drag the leg of what we have come to? Are you answering the call? Are you raking up the leaves? Are you searching the tv for some kind of answer? Stumble through your door Fall into your bedroom Fighting just to find something to feel I'm holding in your might Not dialing your number Did it have to come this far to make it real? Make it real, make it real. ... All these walls are up in arms But they don't pull me to relief As I'm tumbling from sleep to wish I was dreaming. Are you answering the call? Do you wish that you were young Sinking softly from the weight of what you were leaving Stumble through your door Fall into you bedroom Fighting just to find something to feel I'm not calling your might I'm not dialing your number Did it have to come this far to make it real? Make it real. . . . Do you wish that you were young? As we're calling. As we answer it. Do you wish that you were young? As we're fighting. As we're calling. As we answer it. Do you wish that you were young? As we wish that we were young. As we're calling. As we stumble, As we stumble As we stumble, As we stumble As we stumble.