When I was younger, 14 or so,
I lived my life like it was over
Spent my days searching for cigarette butts,
my nights in a newspaper bin
Loitered the halls of North Miami Beach Senior High
on cocaine or pussy or anything goes,
a comic book collecting time-bom
Hey, alright It's not over
It's never over
When I was younger, 14 or so,
I lived my life by the next court order
Holed away in rehabs,
where they promised to save my soul
I'm still waiting, and I miss Matt Craft,
I miss smoking crack, and I miss my bedroom
And though John's still around,
there's no going back I presume