I would have driven myself crazy had I tried to predict
That everything I had ever worked for would bring me to this
Nothing ever works out the way you want, despite your best plans
The final product seldom looks like what you drew out by hand
So if I could trust in the things that you've said
If I could cherish what little is left
Just breathe new life into the walking dead
Would there still be this sentiment?
I might have told you that I am not one to believe in much
Blame it on years of falling apart or the absence of luck
But I am no different than anyone else with half a heart
But it feels like the wrong feet keep leading me out from the start
All of the wrong words keep rushing out
Exploding like fireworks when they leave my mouth.
You can blame it all on my bad habits
You can blame it on me
But someday I'll learn to let it go
Someday I'll learn to leave.