| And whoever said
|
| It was meant to be easy
|
| Was someone who knew how to cope
|
| Not aimlessly walk
|
| Round and round in a circle
|
| To end up without any hope
|
| And the constant reminder
|
| Of all that you’ve missed
|
| From everyone you’ll never know
|
| It’s hard to stay in
|
| With the popular crowd
|
| But oh so much harder to go
|
| Some have it all
|
| Like the world at their feet
|
| Others have streets with no names
|
| There are those quite prepared
|
| To give up their souls
|
| Others who won’t play the game
|
| And the constant reminder
|
| Of all that you’ve missed
|
| From everyone that you’ll never know
|
| It’s hard to stay in
|
| With the popular crowd
|
| But oh so much harder to go
|
| But don’t send me postcards
|
| With felt tip best wishes
|
| Withering roses, and lip sticky kisses
|
| Forget reminiscing
|
| I know what I’m missing
|
| I’ve got to break free
|
| From this thing that is me
|
| And the constant reminder
|
| Of all that I am
|
| And everything I’ll never be
|
| 'Cos all that I’ve left
|
| Is this life full of gloom
|
| In a room full of nothing, but me
|
| In a room full of nothing, but me
|
| In a room full of nothing, but me
|
| In a room full of nothing, but me
|
| In a room full of nothing, but me |