When I awoke / in a cold sweat, / I opened my eyes in hopes last year was all in my head. // Well, of course, it wasn't. / I stared at a ceiling who hates me / because indecision feeds complacency // When I awoke / I did not know where I'd been sleeping / But I had an inkling it was not the bed I’d wanted. // High-rise or basement, / you take your pick. / I want to be six feet underground with flowers on the surface // Because I'm so fucking tired / Of waking up tired / With that throbbing pain in my head // I know I'm speaking vaguely, / but lately, / Those are the only terms in which I can speak adequately // Now, I know that / I don't have the guts // To go home, / and face what I have not done: // Golden opportunities / are sitting right in front of me // Still I hold my hands behind my back: / an excuse to not take the good and bad I deserve to get. // I found peace in a parking lot. / I think I'll tell everyone I was hanging out with my friends. / Then in the morning, I'll drive home like nothing ever happened. / I found peace in a parking lotTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
