I Made It

I made it
But my brain is deflated
And I'm procrastinating
I'm procrastinating
I hate it
How I get aggravated
When my pain feels outdated
My pain feels outdated

Remember the halls
Grey stone brick and the doors
Light yellow paint on the walls
Dark wooden floors
The worn plastic cups
The blue and white minibus
All the pictures of us
The pictures of us

Performing in talent shows
The first day you touched your toes
Sitting at lunch all alone
How fast you had to grow
Go and lie down on the grass
Swing on the swing of the past
Hear your friends gossip and laugh
Oh how you cared for that class

I made it
But my brain is deflated
And I'm procrastinating
I'm procrastinating
I hate it
How I get aggravated
When my pain feels outdated
My pain feels outdated

Thirty days in a month
Within a heartbroken bunch
With too much to confront
We're strong when we're young
Head down on a desk
That was your cry for help
But no one could tell
No one heard you yell

I made it
But it's not liberating
I'm still suffocating
I'm still suffocating
I hate it
How my senses are fading
How I'm incarcerated
I'm incarcerated

The round eyeglasses you wore
The cold and soft plastic floor
The corner you liked to draw
The sticky heat in the storm
The grey and blue uniform
Three figures crouched on the floor
You running out through the door
Running out through the door

I made it
But my brain is deflated
And I'm procrastinating
I'm procrastinating
I hate it
How I get aggravated
When my pain feels outdated
My pain feels outdated

I made it
But it's not liberating
I'm still suffocating
I'm still suffocating
I hate it
How my senses are fading
How I'm incarcerated
I'm incarcerated