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.