My turn to hide
Crawled under blankets
I thought that I won
But no one was looking for me
What did I do to get treated like that?
With a pit in my stomach like I shouldn’t come
I can get better, but I’m always brought back to
Calling my mom, “Pick me up”
I still feel it
The same as seven
In the backseat when they turn up the music
When I show up right when everyone’s leaving
Some things never get old
I still feel it
A shrinking violet
I’m the friend of a friend
I’m not invited
When I say too much
And the room goes quiet
Some things never get old
Fit in a jar
Try to behave for
The world at large
But expect the laughter
’Cause why do I still fear people like that?
With a pit in my stomach like I shouldn’t come
Not any better, no, I’ll never get past
Calling my mom, “Pick me up”
I still feel it
The same as seven
In the backseat when they turn up the music
When I show up right when everyone’s leaving
Some things never get old
I still feel it
A shrinking violet
I’m the friend of a friend
I’m not invited
When I say too much
And the room goes quiet
Some things never get old
They never get old
They never get old
They never get old
They never get old
I still feel it
The same as seven
In the backseat when they turn up the music
When I show up right when everyone’s leaving
Some things never get old
I still feel it
A shrinking violet
I’m the friend of a friend
I’m not invited
When I say too much
And the room goes quiet
Some things never get old
