I'm sitting here all alone,
I have no space,
but just a phone,
and I can't even make it ring.
I'm staring at the black lamp,
that I can't see against my back.
How did I get to here from there?
What once seemed accepted,
doesn't matter anymore.
And maybe I'll never know just why.
I can't believe the mystery,
that I've put on for all to see.
It's just a brand on my arm.
I didn't think I'd cause such harm.
But it stands there with your other thoughts,
the ones you tried to get across,
and I can't seem to let them go away.
But we're linked by love, not by waste.
And I'm so stranded here in this one place,
and I'm here all the time.
I won't go away.