Come meet me at the corner,
A spot I know all too well,
My face hugs pavement,
And my wrists twist like hell,
The rush of thinking things were fine,
I start to get addicted,
I don't want no convictions,
That's why I decided to open my eyes,

I got carried away,
Like a dog chasing a ball off into the street,
I got carried away,
When trouble knocks me down, I just remember,
It's full of bad times,
Life is full of bad times,
Its true,
But without them,
I'd probably still be,
Just as bad as you,

Accepted, connected,
The lines that you proceeded to stress,
Now you have worn them out,
Forcing me to now suppress,
Yet the study of con-science,
Tells me to accept,
I'd like to announce that,
I am no longer inept,

I had no say,
Silent stuck in solitary confinement,
I had no say,
Until I cut the strings right off my back,
Now I am happy as can be, so I remember,
It's full of good times,
Life is full of good times,
It's true,
Because of them,
I am happier than,
An early sunset view,

Escaped from chains,
Useless, they rendered,
Now I spend my days,
Singing with a six string Fender,
In my hands,
In the bands,
And for that I thank you,
Because it's true,
That without the bad times,
And without the good times,
I'd probably still be,
Just as bad as you,