TINY WORDS lyrics

wasting hours lost in thought in the wawa parking lot. fuck it all I'll just go home early cause nobody is gonna fucking notice. summer sucks. it's fucking hot. I'm gonna skip the gym and smoke a lot. fuck, I passed out without doing all the shit I needed to get done. I need something to hold me over. all our seconds always felt like hours and I know I'm not being what I can be, but maybe this time I'll be happy. so what's the point of stopping now? soon I'll be in my hometown. fuck it all, I'll just stop thinking cause where the hell did that ever get me? I sleep too much. I think too much. But maybe if I just go to sleep, I won't have those sad fucking dreams; those dreams about you and me. I know you know what I mean.

now I've wasted time and I dont feel better so I'll try to make this feeling stay a little longer. sleeping bags and thoughts I had, they always seem to get in the way. I try to say it will get better. I just don't know what else to say. when I get home I'll meet you there late at night with matted hair. I'll be released to feel regret; making up the things I said.

midnight died. grandpa's not far behind. we've got fluid in all of our brains except mine. and it's so hot outside that I can't even do anything except eat candy and think: what it might be like if I stopped wasting time and affection from all of my friends and they're all going to california and I'm just stuck here in our college town for the summer. maybe things will be better than they were in baltimore last year. I doubt it, but I'll still be right here when you get back, upholding this veneer that I'm sick of: that I can do anything without my friends and that I don't get lonely cause I'm better than that. and I don't give a fuck, please give my hat back, because I don't want anyone to see me looking this bad.

wasting all my time on shit I'll never find out and you are reading everything but never acting like you learned something. inebriated mind, it all just passes by. I wanted to leave this all behind, forget what isn't mine, and try for you.

I always try so hard to live my life like a normal person would and not get hurt, but all the things that I promised I would do swim around inside my head, crawling up into my bed. and I'm starting to realize that I will never be the way that I want me to be. I'll always be just a little bit too lazy to make my bed, to change my clothes, reply to texts, not be alone. I love being alone. if I say it enough it must be true. And I'm starting to really think that maybe this self-improvement thing is not for me. so I'll smoke more weed. I'll get less sleep. maybe I'll be kind of happy. I hope that I'm happy.

I know you'll never perceive me the way I perceive you. And that's okay (fuck you) I know you'll never know I do. you'll never see the most pathetic thing that's in my room. notes from you adorn my headboard like she used to do.

I won't ever find the words to say or try to make these feelings go away. no, all things will stay the fucking same. I'll just try to make it through today. and I know you are something more than what you seem to be. and I know you are someone who is dangerous for me. and I know you are nothing more than useless to me. but you are nothing more than fucking imaginary. I won't ever find the words to say to my friends who deserve all the praise and importance I place upon your name. I wonder if you worried yesterday.

blow me away, oralloy. I'm a little boy with nothing to do but learn about you and dream of the damage you could do to all of my friends and highway 2. montana is just the place for you. melt arlee down. uncover the ground beneath the school where hell exists. the devil sits right next to me in geometry. he hates my friends and taking tests, but man he loves to make me meet his fists when he gets pissed off about his parent's divorce. his mother's a whore. his brother is taking heroin. he's dying again. oralloy, absolve our sins.

there are things I cannot fix, at least cannot be trusted with. you know better than anyone why I feel like this. I know you, chelsea. I know you're lying. I know you're purely imaginary, but you're so damn real to me.

come and see what it all means to me. monday night. fail to try. losing speed. doing things what I know that I don't mean. and I try to make sense of what is happening to me again but I'm caught up in the spinning of things and the way they used to be again. but there's nothing that's that easy to do that's worth losing my time and friends and the chance that might mean something to me more than I see normally.