As shivers dance up my spine, I know that in due time, I'll be gripping backboards on runaway trains. I don't know if I will ever accept myself. I've got a fear of growing up, my present tense is barely here.
And the future keeps me from sleep, they can see it from miles away.
It's like the light at the end of the tunnel that I'm screaming at to take me back home But the sound just echoes on and bounces off these concrete walls. As I stare blankly at my reflection, I realise where the problem lies: in that there's no place like home for these tired and bleary eyes. There's no place like home for these weathered, greying eyes and as I stare at my feet, I start to realise.
The mirror stares back at me, I'm not certain of what I see. I just hope that one day I will be.
And the future won't bury me, destiny can keep away.
I'm so sick of running away, of burying my head in the sand. I want to face it all head on but a summer's just passed by again.