All the things that I needed
Wasted my chances
I have found myself wanting
When a mother and father gave me their problems
I accepted them all
Nothing ever expected
I was rejected
But I came back for more
Chorus
And my ashes drift beneath the silver sky
Where a boy rides on a bike and never smiles
And my ashes fall on all the things we said
On a box of photographs under the bed
I will stay in my own world