Even practice and parties seem long
And the last time I
Says, "Whats up, where you been, is something wrong?"
And the ones that don't care
Bottles break, music plays
I can't breath with these words in my mouth
I look for a corner or a quieter room
Of appointments and promises made
In this house
(In this house)
(There's no heat)
Until there is no one that you really know
But I'm not going to say them
There's this boredom that drowns everything
On the stairs, she grabs my arm
But I found myself going
Yea, I've made that mistake before
Contrast and compare between the busy ones
Conversations competing for space
One two three, one two three}
So I drift through these days
I guess there's nothing to do, oh well
They'll all end up broken and quickly replaced
Weeks are slow, days drag on
More will show up after the bars close
There's no heat
Group of kids, line of cars