The windows are getting older as I watch them,
And I'm sure I'll be watching them when they rot to the earth.
These bleach white walls are caving in around me,
But maybe I'll worry about them later.
I've got to think of some way to escape this trap I'm in,
And the funny thing is that I keep picking all the wrong ways out.
I suppose that's the only way I'll ever learn though.
Am I crazy? Maybe it's a good thing.
It's almost funny how terrible I can feel,
And yet it seems that the wrong words fit.
Everything's plain. My minds blank. I need the keys.
I need a car. Where's my freedom gone?