I was backed against the traps of my teenage plan.
I was stumbling over gaps and feeling beat up again.
I was staring down the corpse of a lifelong dream,
But I was willing it to get back on its feet again.
I was walking through my life and feeling sick, that’s when
I would find myself repeating my old stories to friends,
Always searching for a notion that resembled a hope
That I was standing on the verge of something good,
I don’t know…
On the verge of something, oh.
From the traps of my teenage plan,
I was wearing out my feet again,
Working nights for some old businessman
Who couldn’t give a second shit about me.
(I was grasping at a hope).
I’d take a hope and a borrowed sedan,
(I couldn’t take it any more).
And I’d ride out to the state that’s when,
(Spending hours on the phone with the pharmacy),
I’d be pulling up to some suburban pharmacy,
And I’d be begging them to tell me something.
I was closing out the bar every night and then
I was waking up each morning around 6am.
I was driving to the doctor and then back again.
You know, they never seemed to have any good news for me then.
I was walking through my life and feeling sick that’s when,
I started plotting out a course to getting free again.
While making pennies for some psychopath businessman,
I started thinking that I might be on the verge of something.
On the verge of something, oh…