...via Postcards Video (MV)

I think I'm losing myself
They saw me falling down
I crossed the finish line, but my shoes melted to the ground
Maybe you'll see me in Portland
After all these years
You'll stop and say I look the same
I couldn't say a thing
You were just a dream

My purpose fulfilling itself in your suffering that must mean something
That must mean something
My purpose fulfilling itself in your suffering that must mean something
That must mean something

I haven't been the same since you went away
I get used to it, I get used to it
I wrote you a letter, but I doubt that you read it
I get used to it, I get used to it

One day I'll send you a postcard
With flowers well arranged
You'll stop and say that I look the same
I haven't slept in weeks, what do these ghosts think of me
One day I'll send you postcard
With flowers well arranged
You'll stop and say that I look the same
I haven't slept in weeks, what do these ghosts think of me

I'm still here, are you proud of me
You only knew me as a kid
I thought I'd die before nineteen
Made it past my mistakes, made it past all my mistakes
The scars and echoes of your name
They all stay here on my body
Next to images of you, back when you were happy