I think I killed the mundane,
growing up wishing to be saved.
I think I killed gentle gestures,
through teenage years, craving someone who cared.
I think I killed connection,
living through my twenties, not knowing who to trust.
I think I killed the mundane,
now I’m nearly thirty,
no closer to my fairytale than I was at fifteen
My mom says it's time to grow up
I can't waste my life chasing real love,
My mom says it's time to get real
Fairytales don't exist it's not a big deal