In those days, I was a train-wreck
I was lost in a sea of alcohol, irony, and unbridled self-pity
There were so many words I had to write
Confessions on my mind
I designed them and delivered them with reckless abandon

My tightly coiled repressed, [bad word] past fading fast
I was constantly exploding
I was constantly screaming
The days moved slow and the nights dissolved into a thickening haze
Where I spoke with a tongue that wasn't mine to faces I couldn't recognize

There's so much I forget
There's so much more I'd like to

I'm through with the past, but the past isn't through with me

That's who I was when we first met in cathartic song
When I became the patron saint of the depressed and neglected
I left those days, those places, and that person all on tape
Absolved, I resolved to start again and never look back

But you want me where I was
And you still remind me

I'm through with the past
But the past isn't through with me