between the stacks in the library
not like anyone stopped to see
we came they went, our bodies spent
among the dust and the microfiche
dark winters wear you down
up again to see the dawn
in your worn sweatshirt
and your mothers old skirt
its enough to turn my studies down
now that you feel, you say its not real
now that you feel, you say its not real
i never thought i would come of age
let alone on a moldy page
you put your back to the spines
and you said it was fine if theres nothing really left to say
youre taking toffee with your vicodin
something sweet to forget about him
if you go your own way i will go my own way
and well never speak of it again
now that you feel, you say its not real
now that you feel, you say its not real
dont check me out