The Act of Estimating as Worthless
a few paces behind
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i rubbed the dirt from my eye
and accidentally made myself cry
i watched as the weight on your shoulder made you tip over
but still i find myself wishing i was more like you
my hands grow tight with apprehension
all this tension built up over the years
i'm just looking for some attention - the kind that you pay for
the kind that gets you through conversations and other things we have to do
you are just a few paces behind me
i will wait for you
the day is breaking my knees are shaking i worry that i've taken too much
my mind is empty and here you've left me i'm sorry if i fucked everything up
know that there will always be tomorrow