Lie against the bus window,
Breathe in the cold air.
It's a long ride back home,
And thoughts go astray.

You think you did the right thing,
You're oh-so-strong,
You're the victor
With no heartache.

But if you're a winner,
Then why are you also a shell,
With no heart
And no one beside you.

If you're the better one,
Then why aren't you happy
Or smiling with meaning
Or sleeping with joy?

If you're not hurt,
Why are you the one
Crying yourself to sleep,
Like a sad little cliche.

Because every night,
You think.
And you feel lonely
Even when you're in an ocean of people.

Because every day,
You act.
And you live for one reason,
Chance.

Because after the show,
And you're no longer in character,
You're just you.
And that's not enough.

Because even though you're first place,
You feel like you're last,
When you haven't got
The prize you wanted.
That prize is you.