For so many years I held my breath for you,
Held under what became the ocean;
Struggling to find footing on what became the ocean floor...
And now, as I reflect on what became my foundation...
Who am I to say the grass was ever greener
Where my own feet struck on the earth?
And that the fields they seemed much neater on my side of the fence;
And who am I to question why you took the path you took?
And who the fuck am I to open this closed book?
But the pages just keep turning and my pen just won't dry,
But my eyes they won't stop burning and yet you still have no reply
I guess that in a way it had to be like this...
And I guess in a way I'm glad it turned out like it did.
Because I couldn't stand your sight if I ran into you tonight;
And if you died I just don't think I'd have too much to say tonight...