Sweep the dirt under your rug
You′re on your drug, and then it hits me
It's paregoric in my head, I′m all doped-up
Doing just fine, you're making up your mind... 16
I'm all grown up and what I know
And now I′m confused 'cuz you don′t talk
I'm standing here and still I cannot hear you
My passion′s locked inside me
Divulging your imperative
For during, though, it's easy (?)
A hundred years of therapy
Thanks, thanks anyway, I′ll soon be leaving