You would think I'd be used to saying good-bye
That there would be no tears left to cry
Yet once again
Here I go
On my path again
Now
where do I go?
You would think I'd be used to saying good-bye
That there would be no tears left to cry
Yet here I am
Trying to unstick sticky
I just want peace
I'm not very picky
You would think I'd be used to saying good-bye
That there would be no tears left to cry
Yet, here I am, mentally packing again
This is getting old
I dont want to feel weak
I wan't to feel bold
You would think I'd be used to saying good-bye
That there would be no tears left to cry
Yet I'm on my own
Familiar yet scary
Where will I end up this time?
My vision is bleary
You would think I'd be used to saying good-bye
That there would be no tears left to cry
Staring into the past
I no longer ask why
I feel the present
As a piece of me dies