Guess it's time to unpack
I've put it off for a while
My clothes spill out all over the floor,
it's no longer avoidable
I'll unzip the bag,
tug on sleeves to unravel
out falls some baby clothes
and armour wrapped in red flags
Does this feeling have a name? protect myself, but still take the blame?
Now I'm sitting in this mess
that I did not create
how come it only gets worse,
wherever I'm involved?
Now I'm packing it rough,
leave the rest behind
How did I tangle up all that I set out to resolve?
Does this feeling have a name? Do I deserve to bear the blame?
Do I learn from my dad and shut down?
Numb it out and cry like mum when no one's looking?
Does she know what there is left behind her?
Left her little sister grieving alone
Does this feeling have a name? Do I deserve to bear this blame?
And as the crow flies I can, clock the milage
I've sunk into this feeling
what a fucking waste of time, waste of time
And all this righteous anger, brewing up inside me
I sit around complaining, what a fucking waste of time, waste of time
All of this family intrigue, what if it's all my fault?
Turned them against each other,
what a fucking waste of time, waste of time!
And now the battles over, stuck in stalemate,
I feel my heart still racing,
what a fucking waste of time, waste of time!