In a tired mind,
sadness digs deep,
too afraid to give myself away
the city and I
weep alone.

I'm tired of losing myself to some stupid childhood dream of what I could have been
Money proves the point and I'm stuck between summer holidays & punk routine
I shoot off a 100 things to remain more sorry than safe, you see
I only get this fucking chance once and I just can't let it be

Well, I'm still certain that what motivates me is more rewarding than any piece of paper could be
Well adjusted & corrupt, all those icons that stole our teenage lust


Rather be forgotten than remembered for giving in.