School Years Die Old
You saw me, you saw me, coming from a bus station.
You watched me, you watched me getting off the bus to say…
Are you gonna live with me? Or will I find someone else, living in a tree.
Will find myself begging for money? Will I lie to you about the world’s good being…?
No matter what you say, no matter what you say to me. I’m not leaving you behind.
Walking back in the darkness outside, I feel lost and trapped on the inside…
Reaching the house we mended together, the relationships that kept getting clever.
Forever, forever, in a school year, you will find yourself asking will there be another year?
Whether you like the years ahead, whether you enjoy the warmth of your bed.
Some of us aren’t so lucky. We left in a hurry, crash after crash, another friend is buried alive.
And if that’s not the case, you may count yourself as being dead. Or lied to, broken and restarted.
Ignited with hatred, fleeing from the world around you. Lying to yourself about the sky being blue.
It’s all a lie, and you saw it coming… it’s all a lie, and the school years die old…
Together, forever. OLD. You will find yourself asking what you did wrong, what did right in the life behind you.
Rocking in a chair, grandkids everywhere. They stare and they stare, do you dare to tell them?
School years die old. School years die old. Yeah. You might find yourself a place for you and them.
Wait, just wait, breaking news ahead. Oh no, he has been shot dead. What a shame, it’s not history.
It’s the end of beginning for a new university. Yeah, yeah. You find them lying in a road with rubble or glass around them.
You’ll find yourself lying there. Next to them. Next to everyone in the world. They offer you safety and you end in a feud of life.
Fighting isn’t the answer to your troubles. No matter what you said, you may as well be dead. (Don’t listen to that)
You find yourself fighting for your life, for your safety. Some of us even tend to get hasty and carry a knife with them.
Afraid of close range relationships, or hatred getting out of control. Chaos everywhere. They stare and they stare.
News everywhere. You’ll find yourself running away from yourself, looking in a mirror feeling good about yourself.
You may just stand there… (Stand there) in a world where everyone is around you. Are they the same?
Or are you the outcast, oh no, oh no, you’re not the outcast. You are just running from everything that will last…
For a few more years, a few more minutes, who knows how long they have… who knows how long you have?
Nobody can give you details on your life long dreams. You’ll find yourself writing and aha, it seems…
You break down in an alleyway, hiding yourself from the angry crowds, angry faces and everything that makes you tick.
Everything that comes running to you, they’ll just want a kick. Click-click, click-click, and you find yourself running away, again.
Into the light and you find yourself running away again…
School years die old.
School years die old…