The Past

And I sing songs about the past.
How I was raised and I was thrown out on my ass,
Cause I didn’t care.
About going to school.
And I saw the look in her eyes.
My mother nearly cried when I had told her that I had wanted to go,
Just to prove them wrong.
I’ve been smoking cigarettes since I was only fourteen,
Just to find an escape from this town that was so mean to me.
And I sing songs about my friends.
The way we grew up, and all the lose ends we used to laugh,
Cause we didn’t give a damn.
And I saw the look in my brother’s eyes,
When I told him I was leaving he couldn’t help but despise me.
He’s wanted out his whole life.
I’ve been smoking the green since I was merely sixteen,
Just to find an escape from this town that was so mean to me.
And I sing songs about the past.
I plead for relief,
This town won’t receive
All the things that I want.
The things that I need.
And I’ll beg and I’ll beg.
I’m down on my knees.
Mama, oh mama,
Let me please leave
I plead for relief.
This town won’t receive,
All the things that I want.
The things that I need.
All I ever wanted was love.