As I step to the edge on the shadow of a doubt
With my conscience beatin'
Like the pulse of a drum that hammers on and on
'Til I reach the break of day
When the sun beats down on the halfway house
Has my conscience beatin'
The sound in my ear, the will to persevere
As I reach the break of day

When you lost all hope and excuses
And the cheapskates and the losers
Nothing's left to cling onto
Gotta hold on, hold on to yourself

A cry of hope (hope), plea for peace
And my conscience beatin'
It's not what I want, for it's all that I need
To reach the break of day
So I run to the edge on the shadow of a doubt
With my conscience bleedin'
Here lies the truth, the lost treasures of my youth
As I hold to the break of day

When you lost all hope and excuses
And the cheapskates and the losers
Nothing's left to cling onto
Gotta hold on, hold on to yourself

When you lost all hope and excuses
And the cheapskates and the losers
Nothing's left to cling onto
Gotta hold on
Gotta hold on
Hold on, hold on to yourself

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Billie Joe Armstrong, Frank E., III Wright, Michael Pritchard, Mike Dirnt, Tre Cool