When you are a teen there is not a minute that goes by that you’re not waiting for a moment to happen
Something of a melodramatic symphony
Waiting to play
The longing for the day
When something happens that someone tells you is real
People like to say that teens don’t grow up fast
But you can’t even remember your past
It’s like a ghost in your house
As small as a mouse
And if you blink?
Well you’ll miss it
Because the high is over
The sunrise crashed
And you can’t help but laugh
While you lay down
Listening to a story that can’t be true
A tale that isn’t real
And it’s funny because you just experienced something so very real
So what if that all gets taken away?
The comfort of home lost
Finding that not living your life requires a cost
Skydiving as a ghost? Traveling the world by floating around?
What happens after the high comes down?
I’m sorry, my darling
I know it gets hard
But don’t disregard
The message I tell you
The tales of ghosts and shadowy snows
The rosy blush glows of your life fleeting by
So I have to tell you
Your moms’ high heel will eventually break
The tears on the playground will turn into a lake
And the stories you get told in bed will turn from fairytales
To ones, you won’t like to no avail
Don’t worry, honey
I can guarantee you won’t fail
It’s just that growing up is a mess
It’s much like telling a ghost story after sex
Something of a melodramatic symphony
Waiting to play
The longing for the day
When something happens that someone tells you is real
People like to say that teens don’t grow up fast
But you can’t even remember your past
It’s like a ghost in your house
As small as a mouse
And if you blink?
Well you’ll miss it
Because the high is over
The sunrise crashed
And you can’t help but laugh
While you lay down
Listening to a story that can’t be true
A tale that isn’t real
And it’s funny because you just experienced something so very real
So what if that all gets taken away?
The comfort of home lost
Finding that not living your life requires a cost
Skydiving as a ghost? Traveling the world by floating around?
What happens after the high comes down?
I’m sorry, my darling
I know it gets hard
But don’t disregard
The message I tell you
The tales of ghosts and shadowy snows
The rosy blush glows of your life fleeting by
So I have to tell you
Your moms’ high heel will eventually break
The tears on the playground will turn into a lake
And the stories you get told in bed will turn from fairytales
To ones, you won’t like to no avail
Don’t worry, honey
I can guarantee you won’t fail
It’s just that growing up is a mess
It’s much like telling a ghost story after sex
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.