Sometimes i feel like a dead man
When i walk around my house
Petrified of going out
I couldn't leave to save my life
I'm a waste of my freedom
Cuz i've imprisoned myself
With this crippling lack of wealth
And my decaying sense of self
And i have two years left
And i hate my future
I hate my job
And i'm such a f**ing slob
Oh, my apartment is a mess
And i am very resentful
That life isn't art
And harry potter & voldemort
Are works of fiction, not our world
And we have two years left
And i hate sleeping
And i hate waking up
With a sense of shame
And i hate sleeping
And i hate waking up
And i can't afford to give a f** about myself
And i have two years left
Two years left
Two years left to go
Two years left
Two years left
Two years left to go