Too Much Time In My House Alone

At the back of a slingshot
Hoping there's no rot in the wood
Hoping the books I read were good enough for their morals

At the back of a school bus
Knowing I'm late to get home
Not used to being on my own, trying to be normal

But I guess I'm going
Or I'm dying
And I'm finding out

At the end of a bad knot
Hoping there's slack in the rope
Hoping there's somewhere to go through the fog at my feet

Signing off on a letter
As it replaces the wine
Praying it's read just one time and not lost at sea

But I guess I'm going
Or I'm dying
And I'm finding out

I've been looking at myself and I've been waiting
For a reaction

Nothing from the reflection
It's just a kid in circular glasses

Running, running from lightning
Waiting for thunder under her dad's wing

I would, just to be back there, I would do
I would do something

I've been staring at myself
And I've been waiting for an infraction

Something to make me feel better about being better
Than I once had been

Running, running from lightning
Waiting inside for something to happen

Missing and never risking rain
For the sake of staying in fashion