I could worry about the little things
The little things that don't matter
The material things
The things nobody but myself sees
I could live in the past
Or the future
Or anything but the present
And I could be mad about where I am right now
As if everyone else I know
Isn't in a different place than me
And I could wish to be you
But maybe it's not trying to be you
It's trying to be anyone else but me
i'm afraid of tomorrow
as it creeps slowly along
like snail it moves
leaving a trail of past
failures and mistakes
edging closer and closer
the room smelled sweet
sweetness a mix between
the sterile and calm
a sweet temptation just out of my reach
yesterday
to you i was nine years old
with a black hurley hat
that never left my head
the hat that you would take
and try to hold it far above
my reach knowing i could never get it
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