Deadbolt

Mostly, I’m just killing time while looking in the mirror,
when discovering that proof of time is gradually appearing on my face.
There’s shadows forming like rain puddles in a storm,
yet I had no idea that they were forming.
And when I’m staring at myself, i’m just pretending that it’s you,
and that you know that I exist,
can’t comprehend the hell that’s waiting here for you.
I always used to think that I was kind of sweet,
now that I know that i’m a bitch, i’ll just give into being lonely.
'Cause my key’s stuck in the deadbolt,
and my ring’s still in that motel 8 in Omaha
and I hope that maid’s enjoying it, my finger’s finally used to it
this weightlessness that makes my hand raise way too fast
when I gesture goodbye.