162nd St
It’s easier to complain about nothing when you’re stuck in a room
always finding different ways to get myself bored.
It’s not my job to be happy, I try to comfort the gloom.
The past will come back and haunt me.
Don’t wake me up I’ll sleep for good.

I’m crying for help, you ignored all the screams
Left behind in the dust, I lost sight of the lead
And all of my friends have gone farther than me
I’m not better than you, yeah you’re better than me

They say that I should find some way to help myself sane
pick up an instrument maybe to find some fame.
But it will never work out I guess I’ll burn with the pain.
It looks like we got another one who goes down being lame