When I was younger I was oh so curious
About the world and how it turned and why I was so miniscule
When I was younger I had brave thoughts

The kind that would lock me away, send me to the gallows
Whatever it was that was trending
They all seemed the same to me

All meant to shame me

And now I look back at my portrait

And I'm blinded by
And now I look back at my poor traits
And I'm blinded by

And now I look back at my so-portrayed
Rebellious kind of life
And I am blinded by the satisfaction


I couldn't help the way I liked to sail
Roughly across the oceans of my time

So many hours spent carelessly wandering away from home
And now a man who's so young on the outside
But on the inside has immobile bones


And now I look back at my portrait
And I'm wounded by

And now I look back at my poor traits
And I'm wounded by
And now I look back at my so-portrayed

Rebellious kind of life
And I am wounded by the nostalgia


Who am I now?
Look at me now
A shell of a child

I wish I could fit into

When I was younger I had a sixth sense

One that told me when someone was stronger than me
Now that I'm older I can only hope and pretend
That I'm strong enough to mutter a single sentence


And now I look back at my portrait
And I'm killed by

And now I look back at my poor traits
And I'm crushed by
And now I look back at my so-portrayed

Rebellious kind of life
And I am destroyed by the pain


Where have all the good times gone?
Where have all the good times gone?
Where are they?