Anyone else feel like a dripping faucet in a firestorm?
Like a piece of paper holding back a tidal wave?
Are you worried that one day, even you might break?
And that the day might come sooner than you think
As for me
It might be too late
Perhaps I could've done a million things
But It just didn't turn out that way
I remember being told how the world was within my reach
How I held the key to paradise
Looking back the only thing I recall ever having held
Was a black cloud over my head
And you see
It's still here today
Perhaps I could've done a million things
But it just didn't turn out that way
And when I reach
The end of the line
As a Monument to Wasted Potential
I will lay me down in my grave
I can't tell how much time will pass
Before I bust this mental cage
I won't ever know if I'm meant to bust at all
Or if I'm meant to fade from memory
As for me
It might be too late
Perhaps I could've done a million things
But It just didn't turn out that way
As for me
It might be too late
Perhaps I could've done a million things
But It just didn't turn out that way
And when I reach
The end of the line
As a Monument to Wasted Potential
I will lay me down in my grave
Anyone else feel like a dripping faucet in a firestorm?