Why can't it be like the movies? And why can't I seem to drink you off my mind? I made myself a martyr For things I know were my own damn fault And I can barely look myself in the mirror When I get on that soapbox and preach to the culture I only pretend to belong to I thought about you more than you think But not as much as you would have wanted And now I think about you way too much I think there's too much thinking going on I began to self medicate With some unusual home remedies So I left, and I ran Into the arms of a seemingly endless list Of so and so's and so's While the familiar smell Of unfamiliar town Stains my clothes And by chance I run into you In the coffee queue at the shop "It's nice to see you too What's that? Well I guess I'm doing just fine"