There are still rotting pumpkins left on the front steps
In mid-February
And there are poinsettias that are withered and dead
In the cemetery
When the ball dropped
I sarcastically yelled, "Happy New Year"
Because I'm pretty sure I'll see it again
Before I'm able to get out of here
I've got dreams of New York City and London
I have this dream where it's pitch black and I'm running
From the sharp claws of the small town that I grew up in
Then I wake up and realize I'm running from nothing
I realize I'm running from nothing
I've heard that dwelling on the past is regret
And looking to the future is dread
But I'm finding out that living in the present is stress
I've got deadlines circling over my bed
When I'm trying to sleep
And the headlines that are scrolling through my head
Are just out of reach
I've got dreams of heading out to the west coast
I have this dream where I get in my car and just go
But somewhere out in the midwest all the roads are closed
I can never seem to remember how the rest goes
I've got dreams of New York City and London
I have this dream where it's pitch black and I'm running
From the sharp claws of the small town that I grew up in
Then I wake up and realize I'm running from nothing
I realize I'm running from nothing
I'm still running from nothing.