Running out of things to say
I'm staring at the wall and the ceiling
Reminiscing on the days I
Didn't overthink I'd just feel it
Pissing old people off
Doing hoodrat shit with all my friends
Band practice in my mom's basement
She said cut the noise at ten
Running out of things to say I'm
Staring at the wall and the ceiling
I can't even feel my face I
Gotta shake this funny feeling
Shadows on the wall begin to twist
My conscience slips from me
I feel better knowing when I wake up
You'll be next be next to me
I'm running out of things to say
I'm running out of things to say
I'm running out of things to say
I'm running out of things to say