My bed

You had this air that said you didn't care
If everyone at school would stare
At our matching, matted bed-head hair
In the same clothes that we could always wear
Because we were sewn into a couch
Both so opposed to going out
Yeah, it's funny: it's no different now
Except that you never come around
There's no more handing off of glasses
As you head off late for classes
There's no bedside staring matches
So there'll be no further distractions
From the vastness of my bed
Or the fucking bastard inside my head
Who's always listing all of my regrets
These days he won't shut up so I get no rest

And that's the reason I gave up on sleeping
And I guess that's why I'm always off daydreaming
And recently it's really had me thinking
That when you claim to know what's best you may just be mistaken