Woorden: Six Pence None The Richer. This Beautiful Mess. Disconnected.

These things which I so often wonder
This need to create myself
Frustration forgotten through slumber
It's there when I wake
Defeated before I rise
I'd pull myself out of his mire
If I could collect my strength
Or muster an ounce of desire
Finding the words and making them mine

Is there somewhere
I could seperate this feeling from memory
Disconnect myself from me

Desire inside to mistreat you
It pushes words out of my mouth
This cyclical pattern I feed you
The back and forth and up and down
But still here you are


Behind this veil of pious revelation
I'll close my eyes and look for worth inside
I don't deserve you

Relinquishing hope for the future
I try not to hate it so
But you are a bridge to those memories
I try to forget if you only knew

Is there somewhere to occupy emotion
A room to keep my rage away from you
Just tell me when these hopeless days are over
I'll open my eyes and see my new sun rise
I don't deserve this