I've got this sinking feeling coming up inside. I can't let this go into my head.
I can't be here. You can't trust me.
Everyday I take the long way home. I see nothing of me in the things I own. Everyday I ask myself why life ain't fair. Why am I praying to a god I know isn't there?
It's the dead of winter. It's freezing cold. I'll just sit here all alone.
Everyday I take the long way home. I see nothing of me in the things I own. Everyday I ask myself why life ain't fair. Why am I praying to a god I know isn't there?