Текст: Dashboard Confessional. Drowning. Anyone, Anyone.

I'm not sure of anyone, anyone.
but I've got plans.
I'm not asking for everything, but sure, I could use a hand.
Get a little anxious sometimes
you'll be gone and I'll be left behind
get a little nervous sometimes
it'll be my queue and I'll forget my lines
get a little lost look, as I'm staring from the corner of my eye.
Never really mastered disinterest.
I can't see how the way that you leave me only makes us close
I must be out of touch.
I won't ask you to give up on the things that seem to keep you gone
but I could be gone too.
feel a little sorry sometimes, you're not here when I am writing
feels a little awkward sometimes, you won't talk but we're not fighting
you hold on to your secrets, and I'm not privy to whats on your mind
but I cannot help but feel tired, so tired, so tired