I wake up and roll out of my bed
With the thoughts I can’t forget
And the memory of when I was ambitious
Now if I were any less alive
I’d be the ghost who’s floating by

And I’m tired of living in a tomb
The four walls of my room
And the things I own
A pile of problems that I’ve caused
And clothes I never wash

Under the bridge, with Scorpios
If my words are worthless, then I’ve lost my purpose
Did you lie, like we were seventeen?
The numbers in my pockets got all washed out in my jeans

And did you die when you were seventeen?
The fire in his pocket met the fabric of the sheets
I didn’t know, oh, I was fast asleep
If I could go back to that time
You know that I’d give anything

I would, I would, I would