Early Next Year

i'll spend my evening staring inside through a window,
watching lovers heads on lovers shoulders.
i'll see a hand around a waist,
it's something i'll appreciate way more
when the arm belongs to me.
staring through this window at a world that doesn't see me,
it's true that there are happy people here.
i'm just out of range,
standing back within the shadows and it's
good to see that some things never change.

in a second i would trade lives with almost anybody inside,
cause everyone is smiling that i see.
every person has a purpose,
everyone seems to be laughing,
and nobody is without company.
if i were a drinker, i would have blacked out hours ago,
it's time better spent than wallowing around in my sorrow,
i'll just switch up my emotions from self-loathing,
right to apathy.

i'll be alone tonight again,
tomorrow will be the same and i'll never take my chances,
at things that i can fail at,
i think it's time to fix that,
go find some confidence again.

my vision alternates between the real thing and reflections,
the underlying message that i see:
an ego-beaten victim always dragging himself around,
upon closer inspection, i see it's me.
if i had a brick i'd send it sailing through the window,
destroy that perfect world behind the glass.
but i'll show self-restraint,
for as long as i can muster,
in order for these feelings to go past.

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