The Bittersweet Aftermath of War

I can't predict the future, anymore
Than you can predict the weather off-shore
You've got your little blanket, keeping you warm
I've been replaced by fabric, sythetic but pure

Can you hear?
The sound of not giving up

There's no such thing as hope, anymore
Cuz if there was tell me, where are my rewards?
It's just a little mind game, we play on ourselves
It's just a poor excuse for, so much more

Can you hear?
The sound of not giving up

You've got this silly way of making me smile at the most inoppertune moments (x2)
You've got me, in the palm of your hand

Can you hear?
The sound of not giving up