At the back of a slingshot
Hoping there's no rot in the wood
Hoping the books I read were good enough for their morals
At the back of a school bus
Knowing I'm late to get home
Not used to being on my own, trying to be normal
But I guess I'm going
Or I'm dying
And I'm finding out
At the end of a bad knot
Hoping there's slack in the rope
Hoping there's somewhere to go through the fog at my feet
Signing off on a letter
As it replaces the wine
Praying it's read just one time and not lost at sea
But I guess I'm going
Or I'm dying
And I'm finding out
I've been looking at myself and I've been waiting
For a reaction
Nothing from the reflection
It's just a kid in circular glasses
Running, running from lightning
Waiting for thunder under her dad's wing
I would, just to be back there, I would do
I would do something
I've been staring at myself
And I've been waiting for an infraction
Something to make me feel better about being better
Than I once had been
Running, running from lightning
Waiting inside for something to happen
Missing and never risking rain
For the sake of staying in fashion
