I kicked the dirt round in a circle
Wondering if it will ever rain
I watched the bright yellow leaves
Fall softly to the ground

With my face in my hands
I sympathize with the trees
Talking to the God
That's never made a sound

I yelled and I screamed
But it was all in my mind
I've had nightmares of being Kurt Cobain
But no one else would say at least he had fame

There's a reason I can't stand still at funerals
But none that I could ever face
What a life we live
A few words more than nothing
And a few lies short of magnificent

I take a walk with my black coffee
Staring at the ground
Can't look anyone in the face
I'm blasting: Cigarettes and Saints
Just wondering which one I am
Saying maybe there's a God
I want to make it to that place

What a life we live
A few words more than nothing
And a few lies short of magnificent
I cannot call again, I stay on seventeen percent

I'm gonna lose it again
I need a new place
Why do the walls close in (why do the walls close in)

That's why I'm closing my eyes
If I can't see my face
Then I won't be surprised