I feel so uptight,
Nothing’s wrong but something’s not quite right, like
I’m petrified to get out of bed
Weighed down by earnest conflictions
The regretful missteps that are trapped inside my head
And I’m afraid that feeling won’t ever go away

Tell me, Emily
Is happiness a destination?
Or a person I’ve not been fortunate enough to meet?
‘Cause even if the entity is contrived,
Something I can never envisage or control
I think I’d like to believe in it someday
Just so I can begin to make sense of it all

Am I wasting time,
Looking for meaning and purpose?
Am I wasting time,
Looking for a divine intervention?
I’m deliriously serious
Worn out but curious
Am I wasting time? Don’t lie to me, Emily
Am I wasting time?
I’d like to think you’d be the one person to tell me