i change my mind like wavy air,
weary of staying too long,
like my hair,
so i cut it short to take a short cut, i swear,
i wish, i wish, i wish i were there..
its been two years
more than i can bear,
in a small town to be crowned, though its not why i stuck around.
dreams can be shifty little things,
leading and leaving me where,
i never thought, in a million years,
the suitcases i spent a fortune on would be covered in dust.
i must be nuts.
they're sitting in the basement of someone else's parents' place,
at this age, i dont know if im laughing in humor or in shame.
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