What are our lives when we leave this place?
Painting pictures to customers
Selling an idea that we have it all together
I wonder what are our lives when we leave this place?
Because we're always here and
When we're not, we complain
It can't be for the money at this point
We revolve around this place
I used to dread heading there but
Now I always say
"I have nothing else better to do"
At least for so many hours I'm wanted somewhere

Then I return home
Feet hurting
If only Blasian was here to rub them
Just wanting to lay
We could play 2K, I almost beat him ya know
Falling asleep in someone's arms besides my own
Wish you could stay longer

Then the eery silence reminds me
I haven't heard from him in 2 days
Haven't heard from my back up in 4
I'm double lonely
Could you work a 2-close instead of 12-5
Certainly.
I'm not wanted any place but here.