Cope

You are a robber, stealing things just to get by
but you know how thieves make me feel;
they make me want to cry.
When I was five, a bandaid made things feel alright.
I'd be scared to talk, but with my mom by my side
I wouldn't feel so shy
things were simple when I was young
there were no expectations of me
nothing to get wrong
and I feel so awkward now
trying so hard to get it right
and not much figured out, and
bandaids don't fix anything
the blood will still bleed through
I can't hold my mother's hand
every time I'm feeling blue.
You've stopped stealing to get by
you've found a job
you're still not happy, though,
I caught you last night when you sobbed
on the back porch
burned your cigarette out in the snow,
you never knew I watched
or that I know,
Oh I know,
life is so hard and we don't get what we want even though we try so hard
sometimes, it doesn't seem fair,
our goals seem so far away
and I know you're scared on how to get there
my mom thinks I'll get there,
but I haven't much faith in myself
most the time I've been alive
I've been wishing I was someone else...
bandaids don't fix anything,
the blood will still bleed through,
I can't hold my mother's hand
every time I'm feeling blue
She's so far away, too
I feel like the world is ending
everything's falling apart
I'll figure this out eventually
but right now I've no thoughts on what to do
it's hard to take my medicine when I fantasize on downing the whole bottle
falling asleep in my dorm bed, thinking about tomorrow....
Figure it out
figure it out
guessing games all end the same they hurt so fucking bad
I'm tired of constantly having to cope, not knowing what's ahead.
I think back to the other week,
you'd said that was your last cigarette,
you're smoking on the porch again,
you got a bit too sad,
you're trying.....