Barely able to keep the lids open
At times I might think I need the rest
but who would want to go back there?

It's already hard enough to say I need it.
bad memories and good times.
Keep me from believing
that I can still jump off.
No longer, no longer the same
you grow accustomed to seeing
the sun in a different location
Standing still becomes a chore.
Anxious to get the pavement moving

The easy solution to this
And everything else is to move on.
It comes equipped with the last word
they find ways to drag you along
and dismantle what you created

It's already hard enough to say I need it
Bad memories and good times.
Keep me from believing
that I can still jump off.
No longer, no longer the same.
You grow accustomed to seeing
The sun in a different location.
Standing still becomes a chore.
Anxious to get the pavement moving

Happiness is not having to
Lie on the floor dead alone.

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