Woke up with a headache
And a bus ticket crumpled in my coat
Don’t know where I got it
But it feels like something I wrote
There’s a guy on the corner
Playing songs he probably hates
And I drop in a dollar
Like I’m fixing some mistake
The sun’s in my eyes
Like it’s mad I showed up late
Every face just floats by
Like it’s got somewhere better to wait
I talk to myself
Just to hear a steady sound
Like a train in the distance
That never slows down
And I’m fine, I guess, if you stretch the word
I’ve been writing down thoughts
I don’t want to be heard
Like: “The world keeps spinning ‘cause it can’t sit still”
And “The quiet gets louder when you’ve had your fill”
But I’m fine
Yeah, probably fine
I found an old notebook
With a list of things to change
All the pages just echo
With the same exact complaints
Like: “Wake up early” — yeah right
“Eat less sugar” — good try
“Call your mother” — maybe
When the guilt starts to die
So I lie, a lot, but mostly to me
Sayin’ next time I’ll try
Like that somehow makes me free
And I laugh at my jokes
When they’re not even good
But the silence is worse
Than being misunderstood
So I lie
Yeah, but only sometimes
Now I’m counting the cracks
In the sidewalk again
Like maybe they’ll tell me
Where all this ends
But they just keep going
Like they always do
And I guess I’ll keep walking
‘Til I do too