Decision after decision
is death after death
is another look of disappointment
from the adults who knew me as an intelligent kid

We're working backwards in timeless cities
where "getting over it" are my good mornings
and tearful hands around my throat are my good nights

Suitcases filled with souvenirs just to visit my own home
but nothing feels like home anymore
maybe your arms are the welcome mat
and maybe its the highway

no one knows
but everyone knows my mistakes
and there's no going back now
this is who I am.
A Disappointment