The Waiting

I load the program on my phone
To find some proof that I have ever been known
Some concert footage, some rubber plants
Some year's first snowfall and a high school dance
A thousand memories at once

With all the distance in between
Folded over to conceal the seams
Fooling myself with everyone else
Misrepresenting any truth I had to tell
And all the hours on the shelf

Always underestimating, I guess I shouldn't be surprised
It feels like I'm accelerating, moving only with the tides

I wash up on some foreign shore
No indication of what came before
A secret life in some other land
Lived in a language that I still don't understand
All in the palm of my hand

It's getting kind of nauseating, no I never could decide
Always overcompensating, still never satisfied

Having trouble concentrating, most days I never touch the floor
Tired of the constant waiting, what will it all be for