the television has never turned off once
the switch was never mine to push
I know it's time to look away
because I can sense the ambush.

screen flickers, pass the time
light bouncing off my face
static, image breaking
trancelike teenage gaze

the guide says there's a schedule
I don't know what for
pixels pass batons
boost the ratings? check the score?

reality comes crashing
can't stand to think it through
cling to premiere seating
letting go's long overdue.

on an elevator jammed
can't open up the door
it goes up or it goes down
i don't know to what floor.

numbers racing past
how do I count them right?
they tell me not to worry
I sit, wait for hindsight.

but I'm content right here
though not with who I am
I want to rest on this same floor
want to keep the same program.

but will I find my truest self
when far ahead of youth?
am I right to hide from change
or should I welcome unpredictable truth?

has sixteen been a clever lie
constructed by my fear?
was it not the perfect show
not a fan-favorite year?

why can't I have the answer?
that's all I want to know
who will I be when I wake up older
and why do I have to go?

growing up against my will
sixteen perfect through a screen
responsibilities closing in
waiting for the clock to strike eighteen

I'm scared;
scared my best year already passed,
scared to stumble, scared to cough,
scared I didn't enjoy it while it lasted,
scared of what's next-
television's off.