Why can't it be like the movies?
And why can't I seem to drink you off my mind?
I made myself a martyr
For things I know were my own damn fault

And I can barely look myself in the mirror
When I get on that soapbox and preach to the culture
I only pretend to belong to

I thought about you more than you think
But not as much as you would have wanted
And now I think about you way too much
I think there's too much thinking going on

I began to self medicate

With some unusual home remedies

So I left, and I ran
Into the arms of a seemingly endless list
Of so and so's and so's
While the familiar smell
Of unfamiliar town
Stains my clothes

And by chance I run into you
In the coffee queue at the shop
"It's nice to see you too
What's that?
Well,
I guess I'm doing just fine"