What are you going to do with yourself
Doubts everything that comes your way
Happens all the more each day
There's nowhere else to go from here

You're trapped in this mild mannered house
It's the squeaky pantry door and the old calendars on the walls
The familiar paints and people in the halls
The dust's all around and you can't get clear

You realise you have to give it up, but you don't want to grow up
The deadline is clear with just two years to go
Bad habits break hard and the withdrawal is slow
Growing up and going it alone is a fear