I’m alive but I’m static. I’m down on my luck and I’m forming a habit. I realize that I am becoming an addict, but I don’t care, because as long as I have a breath of air, and the wind is blowing in my hair, the world can leave me behind. Grab the remote and fast rewind-back to a time when life was an adventure, not this lonely heartbreak picture. I think that growing up is tragic, so I’m alive but I’m static.