Polish The Broken Glass

Polish the broken glass, the dust of your dirty past
But every time that you ask, it puts me in spins
These are just memories, they don't mean anything
How much of this is me and how much is you?

Such is the irony the chains and the shackling
All the old garden games binding these two
Such is the game we play, we have such a little say
In what's worth remembering and what I forget
So I choose not to and I choose not to

And tarnish the legacy hobble it at the knees
Shred every single page until you can breathe
If this is defining you somebody else's view
Then after the interview you can give in

Instead I will choose which of the battles I fight
For which of the causes I die the people I love save me
Which of the battles I fight for which of the causes I die
The people I love save me

Which of the battles I fight for which of the causes I die
The people I love save me which of the battles I fight
For which of the causes I die the people I love save me