If my life starts here, why does this seem like the end?
How can I say I'm not scared when I'll never see you again?
I'm running out of time--I'm on the clock every day
I guess growing up means throwing eighteen years away

One o'clock on a Thursday night
and I'm so goddamned tired I can't close my eyes
Six AM is always waiting for me
like a slap in the face, the reminder that I'm not free
That my life's not my own and the world isn't fair
as long as I'm too young to understand and too old to care
So give me this nine to five lie until the day that I die
I know I'm fucked, caged up, 18 months left to say goodbye

If my life starts here, why does this seem like the end?
How can I say I'm not scared when I'll never see you again?
I'm running out of time--I'm on the clock every day
I guess growing up means throwing eighteen years away

So I just sat inside, watched the cars roll by
Through the window, the blinds and these useless eyes
that are always fighting off sleep or glued to a screen
So everything I've been show has yet to be seen
This routine brings me down but I could have done it myself
the world isn't that big, I don't need anyone else
So I'll spend some time on my own, I don't mind being alone
Waste my days in this maze, a nice little cage that I call home

If my life starts here, why does this seem like the end?
How can I say I'm not scared when I'll never see you again?
I'm running out of time--I'm on the clock every day
I guess growing up means throwing eighteen years away

Who's kidding
Who's kidding
Who's kidding who?
Who's kidding
Who's kidding
Who's kidding who?


Lyrics submitted by badtowndisaster

What I Learned In Mrs. Bonafide's 12th Grade English Class song meanings
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