And you keep running from yourself from everyone from each new day
You never felt true pleasure or fell ill from real pain but you complain so consistently as if you've been betrayed and nothing's ever met the guidelines that you set for each new day and there's always something standing nonchalantly in your way To all the optimistic players you heave a sigh those loyalists keep counting on everything being worthwhile but you don't catch the light of day and you've been accused of carrying on this way see, you don't believe in preaching or praise you just want to barely make it through each time consuming day