My face is constantly hiding under hair.
When I walk in the halls it's like I'm not even there.
The bags under my eyes aren't going anywhere.
Whenever I go out all I get are stares.

The tears always seem to be a part of something bigger.
I promised to myself I would never pull the trigger.
When I lay in bed the thought you just seems to linger.
Hoping that the taste of your lips is similar to ginger.

Thoughts run on, but I don't move.
Wondering what I need to prove.
Music that I can't describe,
Is the perfect soundtrack for this ride.

It's 11 o'clock, what happened to nine?
Friends of mine are drinking wine.
If I lose grip and can't hold on,
I wonder who will make this song...