Hundred in the Hands Follow

If I'm coming or going
Every cycle is central and always so mental
Around me, around the whole world

And I'm wasted all the time
It seems like a good thing to do
The stress of living and the stress of forgiving
Is too much for me, how 'bout you? Yeah

Well, I've noticed that you never smile
While my face is always a grin
You know I'm not a creature of having double features
So come on, baby, just let me in

Yeah, well, I'm wanted for several bad crimes
In places I have never been
But they're after me still so I probably will
Have to find a hole to hide in, alright boys

And I'm walking through walls
I'm not taking no calls
These are the dreams our stuff is made of
These are the dreams our stuff is made of
Stuff is made of

So go write what you want
And say what you like, I don't care
'Cause everything is staying and no one is praying
It's all just a lot of hot air, yeah

And I'm walking through walls
I'm not taking no calls
These are the dreams our stuff is made of
These are the dreams our stuff is made of
These are the dreams our stuff is made of
These are the dreams our stuff is made of

These are the dreams
These are the dreams
These are the dreams
These are the dreams
These are the dreams
These are the dreams

If I'm coming or going
Every cycle is central and always so mental