The sun’s waking up
And you don’t want it to
You say, “Sun please go back to sleep, your baby misses the moon”
(A.K.A your excuse to stay fixed in your room)
Not because it’s beautiful
Or because it lights up the darkness
The moon to you is just the makings
Of a fruit ripped with excuses
For you to lay and rest your eyes in those sleeping bags they've created

It’s getting easier for you, anyway
As the weather starts to freeze and indoors start to heat
As cool breezes force everyone inside
You ignore the beauty of the orange red and yellow leaves
And ignore all the people who love you like me
And bury yourself under the bed-sheets
Like they're your own goddamn cemetery

Well, next time I come over I'll bring flowers
And really complete the portrait of sympathy for misery
Maybe an “I miss you around card”
But you’d just tear and tear it up
Until I get in my car
And drive away without a backward glance
I’m not one to force romance

And if you’re miserable and sad
It’s beyond my help; I wish, I wish I could help.

But life has a funny way of forcing you to care only about yourself
I’m sorry, so sorry, I really wish I could help
But I’ve got enough trouble fixing myself

And I’ve never been too good at fixing anything