hey cheekbones and eyes
|
I've been gone three weeks
|
now I'm a mess
|
my stomach's on strike
|
and it's been three weeks
|
since my last breath
|
|
well I don't know why I'm here
|
'cause I'm not in need of attention
|
and I'm not seventeen
|
and I don't believe
|
in that which I can't see
|
|
well I swear
|
if I make it home with my mind and some skin on this bones
|
I'll be the first one to throw away
|
these car keys and this cell phone
|
so I can't leave or talk to anyone
|
and this stupid wristwatch
|
so I'm unaware of the time that I've lost
|
I'm trying to be that which I'm not
|
|
-----------------
|
Owen - I'm Not Seventeen
|
| Make Believe |
