I missed you last week and I'm not getting bitter
There something about the way it unfolds
I'm running away to the cold arms of winter
Trying to find the comfort it holds
Maybe I'm just doing this all wrong
Has it been within me all along?
I'm getting tired and I'm getting much older
But I've never been so lost and confused
And I'm still awake at the end of October
Breathing and weak I am beaten and bruised
I didn't want any of this
All I wanted was to know I was missed