I could go to anywhere,
head hung low in shame
Buy new clothes and dye my hair,
maybe even change my name
But the past don't ever disappear,
and to run's a losing game
So I might as well hang around here,
maybe you should do the same
What I mean to tell you,
Well you think you own a private hell
You decorated by yourself
Books that you wrote on the shelf
You're dying to come clean somehow
No need to go a thousand miles away
What I mean to say is there is