From my cocoon it's hard to see out
It doesn't look like much, but it's fancy as anything can be
It's where I play, where I grow
Where I look out through my dirty window.
At the end of each long thread
I only want to wrap you up inside with me
By the end of each long day
I just need to forget about
The hope
The chance
The stats
The "it"
The known
As I fall asleep I ask myself:
Has anyone seen the lucky?
Where on earth is this "it"?
And who has yet to quit feeling pain?
Where I look for you out my dirty window.
What if I can't stop? What if I don't survive?
Will I die in this cocoon and not become a butterfly?
Please look after me, whoever you might be
I only know of a couple truths, of which you'll have to agree.
Where I close these blinds of my dirty window.
It's not time to crawl out yet, that I know for sure
Because never say, "never," as nothing lasts forever.
It's not time yet, I'm not ready
It's not time yet.
I'm not ready.
Because love
Is when you are finally
Happy
With what you've got.