Facing the silence
Your mind's up late
You tucked in your white shirt
With the coffee stains
The sun's almost up now
But it still feels late
The yard through the window
Calls you onstage
Look at me, I'm out the door
And I'm not that scared little boy anymore
Skinned my knee when I fell from the tree
But it's not a problem
Forgive me for feeding
My own disorder
But what were my options
Just give me a break
Look at me, I'm out the door
And I'm not that scared little boy anymore
Skinned my knee when I fell from the tree
But it's not a problem