I look out the window: the sill is the brink
Of my depression, and I think
That maybe I have a chance to escape
If I jump out and run away.
But some things may never change--
I'm always failing and always the same.
Running away won't make me whole
'Cause my demons lie inside my soul.

Mama doesn't get me. She never will.
She's never had to stand on this window sill.
I tried to explain all my emptiness
But there's no rhyme or reason to any of this.
Mama doesn't get me. Neither do I.
We're two broken people and stuck inside--
She in her nightmare, and I in mine.
Despite what we're saying, nothing is fine.

This window that sounds like a mad man's dream
Is much more real than how happy I seem.
Sometimes I laugh till my sides ****** ache,
But in my empty heart, it all feels fake.
Sometimes I smile from ear to ear,
But nothing drowns out my sickening fear.
I'm always stuck standing, looking out that glass,
My life a sh-t movie, my acting first class.

As I look out the window, I often entertain
The idea of joining the fast falling rain.
I never will, but the thought lingers still,
As I bang my fists on my ****** window sill.