[Bhitiah]

Sometimes late in the evening I'd sit
watch the sunset wash itself across the wall
waiting for the house to fall silent...
and the quiet...
It would carry me off to sleep
with an Alarm clock set for 11:15
I'd be out of the house at 11:30 at 13.
I'd stay out until 2 or 3AM
waiting for something...anything to come and carry me away again,
but the locks on the warehouse are changin'
and we cant hang out in the hell hole no more....
We've got nowhere to go,
and nowhere is a scary place to go...

We used to speak the same language,
sitting around hanging ourselves with a wasted youth,
and the truth is we didnt waste any time
finding a way to escape life just half hour at a time
and the nights go by black as ever,
blanked out of a wandering mind,
finding time to write my life into a notebook,
that someone took on the city bus last night...
And now, The language has changed
Or at least the tone....
You know too much...
So I go on alone....
Now I, write the pain into my wrists
and hope that nobody notices...

I stumble through a window of a house thats held me captive
But never notices when I'm gone...
And like the night began, the morning begins....
I've exchanged another friend ...
For peace in my own mind...
I find myself starting at the ceiling as the sunrise washes over the walls
waiting for the quiet to end
And...the silence of our voices begin,
.....like mindless robots exchanging good mornings ,
and have a good days over cheerio's,
And I'm blamed because my parents are not my heros....

The only time I really feel at home...
Is when I'm not at home...
And the things I know...
Caused me to grow so old...
Before I seen a birthday...
or blew out a candle...
And when I finally got a chance...
I wished this all away....