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And when it rains
On this side of town it touches everything
Just say it again and mean it
We don’t miss a thing
You made yourself a bed
At the bottom of the blackest hole
And convinced yourself that
It’s not the reason you don’t see the sun anymore

And oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh, I need the ending
So why can’t you stay
Just long enough to explain

And when it rains
Will you always find an escape?
Just running away
From all of the ones who love you
From everything
You made yourself a bed
At the bottom of the blackest hole (blackest hole)
And you’ll sleep ’til May
And you’ll say that you don’t want to see the sun anymore

And oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
And oh, oh, I need the ending
So why can’t you stay just long enough to explain?

Take your time
Take my time

Take these chances to turn it around (take your time)
Take these chances, we’ll make it somehow
And take these chances to turn it around (take my…)
Just turn it around

Oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh, how could you do it?
Oh I, I never saw it coming
Oh, oh I need an ending
So why can’t you stay
Just long enough to explain?

You can take your time, take my time

So, one thing about me: I’m hopelessly easy when it comes to relating to songs. Write a song about your three-legged dog’s favourite chewy toy and I could find my life story in it. But the other thing: I am running away, I would like to sleep till May (wouldn’t that be sweet), and I may be at the bottom of the blackest hole. It is, thankfully, not raining tonight (or at least I didn’t notice).

I still can’t believe how lucky I’ve been, lazy ungrateful and very blessed bastard. Life’s been easy — too easy, sometimes, and I’d like to blame that, blame it on my wonderful life and all the things I’ve never had to work for. I found these 3 folders of certificates and awards and shit that my mom used to keep, and all I see is the little fucking brat who never did his homework, who never took anything seriously, and he gets some fucking medals.

It’s always hard to explain without sounding arrogant or crazy, but all those A’s (and A ones and A stars and A double fucking stars), I didn’t work for them. When I laughed sheepishly and said I only studied the day before I was usually lying. On a good day I might’ve looked at a note or two the morning on the train. And it’s fucking crazy because I still ace whatever it is and everyone thinks I’m a genius and I was too stupid to say otherwise.

And I guess I try to live with it. One of the more interesting theories I toy with is maybe I want so hard to be mediocre I’ve gone and fucked up everything I’ve done. And I can quite clearly plot my slow decline from somewhere in late ‘05. But that doesn’t work because part of me enjoys being better than everyone. In my short stint as a clinically depressed teen I could hardly get out of bed in the afternoon for breakfast but had no problem reciting some ridiculous power of 2.

Of course now the problem is I’ve been a bit too successful at failing, and I’m nowhere nearer to understanding myself, if my crude psychoanalysis is even right. Or maybe I’m actually a failure, by worldly standards, and I’m only now achieving my full potential in the lower half of middle-class Singapore.

–

I feel the people I’ve disappointed the most are the ones I’ve grown to love in these three short weeks.

They never saw it coming.