Sitting at home,
I can't write.
The TV is too loud,
and Jerry Springer's not my thing.
I try to think, what exactly is my purpose,
but I always draw a blank.
Maybe I'm here to run a circus,
I only said that because it rhymes.

I just can't see life,
in my old brown eyes.
I can't seem to fight,
these feelings inside.

I go bowling on Tuesdays.
I stand there in silence,
take my turn when it comes.
I look around but no one understands me,
they just know me as Barry.
I wonder if they even care for me,
or if I'm just some lonely fool.

I just can't see life,
in my old brown eyes.
I can't seem to fight,
these feelings inside.

Dropped out of school and lost my mind.
My teacher said I'm lazy,
or maybe I just don't like school.
The thought of growing older bothers me,
it makes me uneasy.
I really don't mind getting grey hairs,
I just don't like dying.

I'm a nothing,
a no one,
a loser,
a fool.

I sit silent,
I lose myself,
I am a fool.

And I just can't see life,
in my old brown eyes.
I can't seem to fight,
these feelings inside.