I'm more alone on Sundays than I ever thought I'd be.
By now they've left, the hall's been swept, there's no one else but me.
Come back! I choke! Refuse to let it slip but when I
See! You go! It's almost like a part of me
Is selfish for my lack of waiting
I can't help myself but hating
Every single person who can bear to leave their other part,
I fail to find my therapy in any form of art, just
Complain, complain!
Yet I'm the belle of the ball and chain
I'm brought back to reality
By confidence I feign
Explain, explain
How I'm bound here in my own domain
My throne is a computer chair
With none to entertain
Engrain, engrain
Some self esteem into my brain
It's all so easy to be fixed
But all I tend to do is complain
I'm bottled up by Wednesday night, I'd had it with the week.
And not the angsty teenage way that's trendy, sad or meek.
She's dead! I said! On thoughts of what I was and now I
Learn! My friends! Are nothing but their titles and
Now I find myself once more debating
What of me's worth reinstating?
They've all got it great, but me?
I never had a shot to reach horizons where I thought I'd be and so I let it go and
Complain, complain!
Yet I'm the belle of the ball and chain
I'm brought back to reality
By confidence I feign
Explain, explain
How I'm bound here in my own domain
My throne is a computer chair
With none to entertain
Engrain, engrain
Some self esteem into my brain
It's all so easy to be fixed
But all I tend to do is
Complaaaaaain!
Yet I'm the belle of the ball and chain
I'm brought back to reality
By confidence I feign
Explain, explain
How I'm bound here in my own domain
My throne is a computer chair
With none to entertain
Engrain, engrain
Some self esteem into my brain
It's all so easy to be fixed
But all I tend to do is complain.
Complain...
Complain...
