Headsore

I had thoughts today
That made me feel as if I may be growing
I have this urge to read and learn
Something new

But I hate books
And I hate reading
So what am I thinking

Often the story has just gotten old
And I can't grow with it
Anymore

I can't grow
Waiting for your arrivals
Hiding my life among
While I overhear his twisted intellect
Like vocal on his deathbed

She said
"You're 22 and life is the same for you
As when you left here"
I thought of the one
Who dyed his pride four years further than me

I'm going over the water now
And when I get across
I'm going to look back and think
Not tomorrow, not ever

Headsore
Of course
Headsore
Of course

I had thoughts today
They made me feel as if I may be growing
I had this urge to go and love someone new

But I like her and I hate playing
So what am I saying?
I think our time has just got old
And I can't grow with her anymore

I can't grow waiting for you eyelids
Hiding from the light of morning
While I overhear his twisted intellect
Like vocal on his deathbed

She said
"You're 22, life isn't the same for you, as it is for me"
I thought of the one
Who dyed his pride four years further than me

I'm going over the water now
And when I get across
I'm going to look back and think
Not tomorrow, not ever

Headsore
Of course
Headsore
Of course