Majestic

Twenty-nine years into life.

Some things, I still can get right.

Priorities may never be straight.

And that's always a topic for debate.

So I've made up my mind.

I shouldn't be loved.

I play in a band, I work when I'm home.

Why do I feel guilty for the shit that I've done?

I've opened some doors. Slammed just as many.

Opportunity's knocked. So, how can you blame me?

I'm trapped in a life that I have chosen.

My heart's growing colder yet harder to be broken.

Again and again. Again and again.

I'm chipping away at nothing.

So I've made up my mind.

I shouldn't be loved.