I miss Connecticut and the way you used to feel,
I peeled this skin, limb from limb,
it just hasn't healed.
And I left a mark on you.
Says 'golden dreams aren't true'.
I know I wasted all my good years,
was a liar, a coward, but that bastard skin has peeled,
we were too young.
Too young to grow.
I have been trained,
in what makes you ache.
What makes you shiver in the cold dead of night,
Can you move on from the past?
I know now that I can.