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There's a song that I wrote once about you, but
It's one that I never play
I promised I'd send it and never did

Well, you wouldn't understand all the words anyway
And you'd ask for the meaning a million times

Now we're walking the short path
But it's taking an hour still
Reach my hand out to brace you from falling
You meet my eyes, and you tell me you're not going down
And I know that you're lying, at least to yourself

Sure, you're not going down
Down

You worship freedom and certainty
In the temple you bought yourself
Well, I want freedom for everything leaving me
But you keep begging for me to please think of myself
And I'd much rather think about anything else

I'm so sick of myself
Light the candle and watch as it burns in its well

I'm so sick of myself
Self, my reasons
What if we just have the season?

So did I take you for granted
Or was I just as a child is?
Getting trashed at the movie you brought me to
Roll my eyes at the scene where you try not to cry
If I take that for granted, then what am l?
I still hate when you cry
Cry

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