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I can't count the days
Waiting on the time or place to change
It's actually fucked, I keep in pace
Fifty-three complaints I'm ill-equipped to face

If this is playing grown-up
Hold my hair back as I throw up
Under sheets with all my toes up
Wasting away, 'cause

Every day's the same
When you get home from work, I'll try to keep you entertained
And I know we're both so far from sane
Picking fights to let you know I'm glad you came

If this is playing grown-up
Hold my hair back as I throw up
Under sheets with all my toes up
Wasting away

I can't count the days
Waiting on the time or place to change

I cannot help you
I never wanted to
I cannot feel blue
I never wanted to
I cannot help you
I never wanted to
I cannot feel blue
I never wanted to
I cannot help you
I never wanted to
I cannot feel blue
I never wanted to

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