This one's for you, self appointed critic The next time you're in town I'll be taking messages Leave your name and number I'll call you when I'm interested This one's for you, pointless endeavor The price you put on forever Is bigger than my bank account You're always writing numbers down I've been thinking clearly Burning the leaves off of my misery I can watch the embers flicker And hope that things soon get better I wake up each morning with a question "Today will I be worth your attention?" Your closing statement: "Live life like you were born to leave it."