Vacant

No home

You're putting yourself through this hell on earth

You're trading your youth for smoke

Couch surf the last of your twenties, stuck in a big haze

Now, I see your mum with her cold blank stare, fixed on that old black chair you used to Spend your days in, but you've since instead been vacant

Oh, he's just experimenting, trying new things

But her words don't reflect her eye rings or her facial expressions, not a mask for her Complex depression

So, will you accept my hand when I offer to drive to the Northern Clinic?

And borrow you a new sense of courage and commit yourself to therapy and motivation?

I'm sorry that I let you down