I missed you last week and I'm not getting bitter There something about the way it unfolds I'm running away to the cold arms of winter Trying to find the comfort it holds Maybe I'm just doing this all wrong Has it been within me all along? I'm getting tired and I'm getting much older But I've never been so lost and confused And I'm still awake at the end of October Breathing and weak I am beaten and bruised I didn't want any of this All I wanted was to know I was missed