my old university downtown.
it's 9:48PM.
these young waves crash across the crosswalks.
i'll never see them again.
well i think i could go back to school
if I wanted to go back to school,
but i don't wanna go back to school.
'cause what happens then?

i blow the next three years fretting over nothing,
graduate, and try to pretend that i'm something,
but end up stuck and staring at the useless
scrap of paper on my wall?
but then I wonder what's the difference?

because that's my life now, always fretting over nothing,
while all my friends start to find their way towards something.
and i feel left out and staring at the blank wall,
because i don't even have a scrap of paper to show off
the fact that i committed to something for longer than a few weeks.

and i know it means nothing in the long run,
but sometimes it feels like nothing means anything in the long run,
so why not waste my time when literally all my time is a waste?
select, copy, and paste.

taking notes in the ledger
but I can't read between the lines,
and these kids are all around me,
and they've all got thicker spines.
they have their own worries and fears,
but they haven't been chewed up by strife,
and some of them never will be.
how do you get that lucky?
how do you get that fucking lucky?

every time i turn around i expect to see
a wireframe of the world i'm passing through,
strings of hexadecimal scrolling too,
generating the environment in front of me,
and deleting it as i leave.
i don't know what to believe.
i know my goddess won't ditch suddenly,
but i feel like now she's waiting to see
if i can really prove my faith to thee,
or if waking life really is a dream
and I'm caught in between,
terrified of the horrors I know
but even more scared of the ones i've not yet seen.
fuck me.
baby, fuck me.
fuck me,
baby, fuck me.

make me forget this body.
make me forget this soul.
not forever, just a minute.
all this praying takes its toll.
so choke me with my rosary,
fill up every hole.
slam my face into the wall,
make me remember my role.

i know i'm coping better
than ever before,
but I'm still hoping for death
at my very core.
and i cover it up with sand,
and the waves make the sand all wet,
and i pack it so far down
that sometimes i really do forget.
but even when i do, i still fret over nothing.
but i'll be something.
i swear to thee, someday i'll be something.

it burns my feet to keep walking this path,
but there isn't another one in sight.
and like the storm, it always passes,
and i'll stand up ready for the next fight.
'cause my goddess will not let me stay weeping on the ground...
she sets me as high as a kite!

and despair as i might,
in the arms of the night,
i nurse my wounds and take flight.