Promised Hand

I've always felt like an anachronism
I've always felt slightly out of place
Everything would be childhood simple
If it was just a different year

All the parties seem crooked
All the faces too similar
A brown and white swirl of clay
An eye too clear
A mouth blurred

If I could hold out just a little bit longer
I could get back to 1985
When it was alright to make mistakes
We'd drink and laugh and feel like there won't be a future

I feel like I have a future
I know that I don't belong here

I just want to sit on a park bench
Listening to the Cure
Staying out all night.
Being young, belonging to nowhere.