It's a blurred line between
Saturday and Sunday
I want to lie in the street
Or down a bottle of wine
The sun sets on the falling leaves
And I sat in the corner
Watching beyond Me
I wish I knew myself
The way I want you to
I wish I wrote love songs
The way I used
I am so bitter now
I've lived 100 years
I loved none more
Than the rest of us did
(Too many or not at all)
Everyone around me is walking in circles
And I'm trapped in an ellipse
Manic to panic to slow to stop
I used to want a quant life
Cherry red door and Pickett fence
Now I'm so restless
I swim without a backbone
I sleep on sticks and stone
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 1:29 AM UTC
It's a blurred line between
Saturday and Sunday
I want to lie in the street
Or down a bottle of wine
The sun sets on the falling leaves
And I sat in the corner
Watching beyond Me
I wish I knew myself
The way I want you to
I wish I wrote love songs
The way I used
I am so bitter now
I've lived 100 years
I loved none more
Than the rest of us did
(Too many or not at all)
Everyone around me is walking in circles
And I'm trapped in an ellipse
Manic to panic to slow to stop
I used to want a quant life
Cherry red door and Pickett fence
Now I'm so restless
I swim without a backbone
I sleep on sticks and stone
