Вступление
I'm not always tired, but I'm usually peopled-out.
It won't be long til I move on from this and gracefully bow out.
It don't take much to get along, I don't need much to keep me strong,
I don't talk much, I'm better off hiding where you can find me,
At my window, every morning.
Driving for days, still exploring.
The remnants of my five year plan are shorter than my attention span.
I'm most always bluffing still my conscience weighs nothing more than a ghost.
My love for adventure makes me a flakey friend at best.
Profoundly sad to admit, I'll never get better than this.
Cause in the funny way I see, it's better if I leave before I hit my peak or my good luck dies.
Won't go to bed until I relearn to sleep on my side.
And that's the point of
driving for days, never knowing.
Still stuck in a full body yawn, a moment of calm, I'm standing face to face
with a parody of myself hoping he don't mind me asking,
"Why do you hate so much? How did you chip your tooth?
How are you so sure of your purpose and when did you know what's best for you?
And why do you care so much? What are you trying to prove?
Won't you wake me from my daydream when you leave for something new. I wanna come too."