I've got this sinking feeling coming up inside.
I can't let this go into my head.
I can't be here.
You can't trust me.
Everyday I take the long way home.
I see nothing of me in the things I own.
Everyday I ask myself why life ain't fair.
Why am I praying to a god I know isn't there?
It's the dead of winter.
It's freezing cold.
I'll just sit here all alone.
Everyday I take the long way home.
I see nothing of me in the things I own.
Everyday I ask myself why life ain't fair.
Why am I praying to a god I know isn't there?