I spend most of my days
on the top level of a double decker bus
Going from one direction in the morning
to another in the afternoon.

The glamor lacks
but the freedom is incredible.
Where will I go?
What will I do?
Will I ever come back to you?

Waking and working
cooking and cleaning
marrying and conceiving
What a dull sad life
most are destined to live

While I enjoy my time
living the lie
of someone who travels
on a double decker bus

I woke up in his bed yet again
Stumbled through the mess of clothes and ***** dishes on the floor
Trying to find my outfit from the night before

I darted out the door
Down the stairs and into my room
My head throbbing like some impending doom

And what does it mean
We're only just friends?
Waking in your bed daily
Seems more than just friendly

If that’s all it is, all my friends really owe me

The TV is off
The room is dark
And I am alone
Between these four walls

The clock is ticking
The tap is dripping
But I am alone
Between these four walls

I grind my teeth
I wonder I think
Still I am alone
Between these four walls

And I alone I will stay
Ever since the day
You left me alone
Between these four walls

I'm out of words for you
I'm lost and incomplete

I'm alive and I'm free
I miss you, but I'm happy

At last someone stepped up
At last someone let go
I only wish I had done it long ago

It is good
It is bad
It is neutral

I clung to the nothing that you offered
I lived in denial too long

I don't miss your words
I don't miss your morning breath
Now I find I miss you less and less

Oh those summer nights
When everything seemed alright

Sitting in the backyard
Watching the fire snap and burn

Drinking my cheap beer
And listening to you and everyone there

Everything was good then
Knowing I’d wake up in your bed

But summer only brings the smells
That remind me of what's dead

Oh those hot summer nights
Sitting in your backyard

It was carefree and young
And I can never return

Suicidal tendencies can follow you throughout your life
This makes arrival to old age something to really celebrate

An alcoholic makes it that first year
An addict finally beats their fear

The thoughts still return
The guilt and the pain

Maybe I deserve this in some way?
There is a distinct pleasure in the cut

Running a blade across
and watching the blood run

It's a battle I'll fight from day to day
Hoping one day to celebrate my old age