I often think of what I was Maybe I could've been more Am I just lacking patience? Is it something to ignore? Sometimes I cry myself to sleep Wishing I could fly away Into another avenue where flowers won't decay If only I could start new Or have another life Escaping my person that gave me nothing but strife I'm only nothing but a problem That can never be solved By Harvard graduates, professors, even clerks at the mall I try to run from it all And hide in my bed Daily pills that I swallow with pillows under my head Just block out the noise But I wish I could hear A question different from the one that lingers on my mind of not being here You're my souvenir