I will change the table Someone so kindly hid under my desk I will change it tomorrow There's a trapdoor of sockets And my chair keeps getting stuck
Tomorrow I will smile wider and Not fiddle with my hands I will not nod again and again Like a bubble head on speed When someone is speaking I will not fear moving too loudly
When tomorrow comes I will Be sure of how to wear my hair And what to say when someone Asks me if I've brought lunch
I will try to eat with company Not hide in the restaurant that You only know if you've been There before
I will not cry at the thought of doing This forever, for the rest of my life During lunch, chainsmoking My feelings even if my lungs can't take it anymore