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lyrics

I'm more alone on Sundays than I ever thought I'd be.
By now they've left, the hall's been swept, there's no one else but me.
Come back! I choke! Refuse to let it slip but when I
See! You go! It's almost like a part of me
Is selfish for my lack of waiting
I can't help myself but hating
Every single person who can bear to leave their other part, I fail to find my therapy in any form of art, just complain

Complain, complain
Yet Iím the belle of the ball and chain
Iím brought back to reality
By confidence I feign
Explain, explain
How Iím bound here in my own domain
My throne is a computer chair
With none to entertain
Engrain, engrain
Some self esteem into my brain
Itís all so easy to be fixed
But all I tend to do is complain


I'm bottled up by Wednesday night, I'd had it with the week.
And not the angsty teenage way that's trendy, sad or meek.
She's dead! I said! On thoughts of what I was and now I
Learn! My friends! Are nothing but their titles and now
I find myself once more debating
What of me's worth reinstating?
They've all got it great, but me? I never had a shot to reach horizons where I thought I'd be and so I let it go and


Complain, complain
Iím the belle of the ball and chain
Iím brought back to reality
By confidence I feign
Explain, explain
How Iím bound here in my own domain
My throne is a computer chair
With none to entertain
Engrain, engrain
Some self esteem into my brain
Itís all so easy to be fixed
But all I tend to do is

Complain
I'm the belle of the ball and chain
Iím brought back to reality
By confidence I feign
Explain, explain
How Iím bound here in my own domain
My throne is a computer chair
With none to entertain
Engrain, engrain
Some self esteem into my brain
Itís all so easy to be fixed
But all I tend to do is complain, complain, complain.

credits

from And The Ringmaster Is Pleased To Introduce​.​.​., released January 19, 2013

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