Everything in front of me seemed like fair-game
if I've got time to occupy. I think I need an escape.
I think I've made a mistake, but it wouldn't be the first time.
Selfish thoughts turn into guilt before my eyes.
I'm sure that my sins will find me out.
Pawning off excuses on my composure being lost.
I'm busy keeping up with the person I don't want to be.
I'm barely keeping up with the person I don't want to be.
And my words? They're not as real as they seem.