The past was real Won't take back anything Won't settle (for) may be No direction What the fuck are we supposed to do? Now that it's over Broken Bottles scattered on the floor Were balanced on the ledge Age will force them down sometimes Pick them up and start again How does it feel? Do you regret anything? Complacency It's life's infection Is it a life that you must choose or leave? No that's not for me Bruised Not Broken Plagued by second thoughts Bruised Not Broken Afraid to be forgot