Who am I to tell you that your mediocre life is tainted?
You’ll find out someday I know
Maybe I should clear my head and the way I see you clouded in my far too empty mind
I miss all the finer things we know
When I come down to the excuses we’ve made
I’ll forget all our troubles and we’ll make some
Who are you to listen to my every word I’m speaking softly
So you can’t hear what I say
Maybe I should scream my lungs out and blow away what you’ve accepted in your warm embrace
Who are we to take for granted all the things that we’ve been handed?
I know that someday you will
Give it all to someone who is nothing like the man that I am and all I’ve ever known
I miss all the finer things we know
When I come down to the excuses we’ve made
I’ll forget all our troubles and you’ll make some for me
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