The marks across my arms,
They hold a greater meaning inside my past.
Its like one step forward,
but two steps back,
in everything I do.
Realizing I’m just speaking to the youth,
and the airwaves.

I think that love,
is just a cliché story.
Marking the ties that bond,
the knives that sever.
Happily ever after,
Never seemed farther away.

I just don’t like the steps I took to get here,
Finding this it has its deeper price.
The weights have shifted against me,
I always thought that settling never held a cost,
Until now.
Realizing I’m now trapped somewhere deep beneath the floor,
And the ceiling.

I think that love,
is just a cliché story.
Marking the ties that bond,
the knives that sever.
Happily ever after,
Never seemed farther away.

And I just can’t find the pathway back,
To the place that I had started.

And I honestly think that love,
is just another cliché story.

Gravity has kept me down,
within the space between the sky and the ground.

Marking the words that bond,
the lies that sever.

Until there seems no more room,
for this to grow.

Happily ever after,
Never seemed closer today.