B.C.P. Count The Hours

I’m running down that hill again. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. Where did we go wrong? Was it you? Was it me? At this point I’m completely vulnerable, because I’m terrified of what I might say. I’m just a scared with everything to lose. All this standing here is wearing holes in my shoes. I’ve become restless with a confused head, because I’ve ran back every single word you’ve said. This isn’t a song or a book to ease the pain. Just want to scream these words to you, simple and plain. Let these words go. Please let them out. Only some ink on a page can save me now. “What would you do if I sang out of time? Would you stand up and walk out on me?” Those old feelings of defeat just jump onto the page, like I’m holding them back, and this is their stage. I can’t see the future, I can only remember the past. Where the fuck have you gone? Remember the days when we were still innocent? Where the fuck have you gone? Someone once told me that this would happen. We would grow up and move on. Well this isn’t moving on, and I’m not growing up, you’re not growing, you’re losing yourself. Nothing I can say will matter anymore, so let me say this one last thing. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I will never forget. I will never forget. You fucking mattered. I fucking mattered. We fucking mattered. Fuck, fuck, fuck

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