Tired, I'm so tired
I've been sleeping like a log but for short periods of time
Nothing's worse than when the words you sing don't rhyme
But you're beating yourself at a game of cards
Like you're drawing a bowstring across your heart
Like a string plucked, bends and breaks
It's like you baked a stale cake
You'll have your cake and eat it too
But it won't feel as good as it was meant to
When you go it'll feel like you were meant to be there
And you need it, and you want it