three years and I'm back to where I was
terminal port and sloppy sustenance
who ever knew my fingers would glide against worn keys
it's been so long since I've been myself.
it shows, and it shows, and it shows
isn't it funny how I waste my time searching for something more?
and rediscovering my older tricks haven't worked and there's no cure
trying so hard to bypass time, ignoring the fact that I must die
maybe there's nothing left for me to find
