Thank You, Therapy

I’m addicted to the way you feel, when you’re sky high, and I’m lower than I was yesterday. How many times did they tell me? But I just can’t stop holding the world on a pedestal, and it’s slowly breaking my back.

How many nights did I stay up? How many sunrises did I watch with my burning eyes? More than I want to count, but I’m too far in to stop now. It’s not even raining anymore, so why am I still standing here?

I’m made up of percents, statistics. Never trying to be realistic. Just trying to make the world see just how wonderful it would be.

The numbers get larger these days. I’m always left in such a haze. Just trying to make you see just how wonderful it would be.

I can’t be myself around myself. And no one wants me to be me. So I don’t even know anymore, the reasons for this black hole. And I know you’re sick of the same old story, but maybe you’ll listen anyway.

This is me, holding the world at its highest: the world at its lowest. Read my mind and know I never meant to cry. Sorry for the trouble, sorry for the hurt. When it’s come to pass, I know we’ll all be so much better off.

I’m made up of percents, statistics. Never trying to be realistic. Just trying to make the world see just how wonderful it would be.

The numbers get larger these days. I’m always left in such a haze. Just trying to make you see just how wonderful it would be.

Sometimes in our lives, realize it’s never the difference it seems.

I’m made up of percents, statistics. Never trying to be realistic. Just trying to make the world see just how wonderful it would be.

And it would be wonderful.