Waiting to Dance

Why does everything seem to end
Just when I find the will to see it through
Why does nothing seem to last
Just when Ideals withered next to you

And I was waiting on the floor
For a hand offered me
I was waiting to dance in your night
And breathe the nearness of you

Why do words seem to die
Just when I reach cliches come into view
Why does breaking here seem wrong
Just when I thought create something new

And I was waiting on the floor
For a hand offered me
I was waiting to dance in your night
And breathe the nearness of you

And breathe the nearness of you