There are seven friends I cannot lose
And these seven match of hands pull me down
With this "better weather" attitude, I never seem to get things done
When an earnest twist of fate separates the trash from the simple,
I jump back in the drama,
Mt. Garbage is more fun than an empty field of dirt
Maybe that field is empty because of me...

I'm turning out, and higher
Who am I fooling?
I'm not okay
Displaying fine, but inside is a board of nails and rubber bands
Half a glass, but I see no tears, just willful regret
And I wait to see if one will give me, as I've gave them
But not today, maybe tomorrow, maybe never

There are seven friends who tell me where to turn
And what to do and how to walk and how to speak
With this "better weather" attitude, I never bother to cut them loose
When an honest person comes to me with a mirror in hand,
I shatter faulty glass
"For an honest person only would show me what I want to see"

I'm turning out, and higher
Who am I fooling?
I'm not okay
Displaying fine, but inside is a board of nails and rubber bands
Half a glass, but I see no tears, just willful regret
And I wait to see if one will give me, as I've gave them

I fall right in the design, but my hologram is left behind
And all I know is rebuilding into another mountain of trash

I'm turning out, and higher
Who am I fooling?
I'm not okay
Displaying fine, but inside is a board of nails and rubber bands
Half a glass, but I see no tears, just willful regret
And I wait to see if one will give me, as I've gave them
But not today, maybe tomorrow
Maybe next year, maybe in another lifetime
Maybe never

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