Type Three – Anberlin

I have my reasons, for the vices I embrace.
A world of treasons, and I’m their only escape.
No one else here, as conversations that drown them.
Sixteen is nothing, and never will be ’til I’m dead.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby. (Oh, oh.)
Take all the hands that need you lately. (Oh, oh.)
I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, on you, anymore.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby.

Daydream that the world stands still, dancing through the fibers of time.
Maybe I just wanna hold
Something that was never meant to be mine.
I look to Heaven to save me!
And you call me naïve.
Rather be a hopeless lover,
Than cursed with disbelief.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby. (Oh, oh.)
Take all the hands that need you lately. (Oh, oh.)
I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, on you, anymore.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby.

Listen carefully now to the words that I choose:
Speak only when you are spoken to. Oh, oh.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby. (Oh, oh.)
Take all the hands that need you lately. (Oh, oh.)
I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, on you, anymore. Oh.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby. (Ohh, ohhhh.)
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby. (Don’t fight, don’t fight the hands.)
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you baby. (Don’t fight, don’t fight the hands.)
Don’t fight the hands that need you, lately.
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