"Every hour is a season
Every minute lasts a day"
I think that might mean the person is trapped, nothing to do but count the seconds.
"So I sit here picking stitches
I find comfort in decay
How I long to fill my lungs"
Perhaps where he is, he gets hurt bad enough for the harmer to give him stitches. Everything is decaying around him, but he's fine with it now, and it's better to decay than get better. But he's still feeling trapped, and wants to be free.
"Tell me how does it feel to breathe air cold and clean?
Cause I�ve been living on my knees
Since I was seventeen
Thought I was safe beneath the smoke
But even under cover I still choke"
He hasn't been allowed out since he was seventeen. He's been in the same place, nothing fresh or new. Where he is, he's sheltered from everything, but all the sheltering is smothering him.
"Well my wings were clipped and even if they weren�t
I�ve not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth
There�s no poetry in my soul
Just a list of lies I�ve told
And I don�t know how much longer I can hold on"
He's trapped where his is, like birds are when their wings are clipped. If he wasn't trapped he still wouldn't set himself free and get away. There's nothing pretty in his soul, and the lies could be the ones he's told people in the past. Thinks like saying he was okay, and everything was fine. He doesn't know how long he can hold on to maybe his sanity, or his life.
"Every hour is a season Every minute lasts a day" I think that might mean the person is trapped, nothing to do but count the seconds.
"So I sit here picking stitches I find comfort in decay How I long to fill my lungs" Perhaps where he is, he gets hurt bad enough for the harmer to give him stitches. Everything is decaying around him, but he's fine with it now, and it's better to decay than get better. But he's still feeling trapped, and wants to be free.
"Tell me how does it feel to breathe air cold and clean? Cause I�ve been living on my knees Since I was seventeen Thought I was safe beneath the smoke But even under cover I still choke" He hasn't been allowed out since he was seventeen. He's been in the same place, nothing fresh or new. Where he is, he's sheltered from everything, but all the sheltering is smothering him.
"Well my wings were clipped and even if they weren�t I�ve not the guts to fly and leave behind the earth There�s no poetry in my soul Just a list of lies I�ve told And I don�t know how much longer I can hold on" He's trapped where his is, like birds are when their wings are clipped. If he wasn't trapped he still wouldn't set himself free and get away. There's nothing pretty in his soul, and the lies could be the ones he's told people in the past. Thinks like saying he was okay, and everything was fine. He doesn't know how long he can hold on to maybe his sanity, or his life.
Just what I think about the song. :)