I see the picture of who I want to be
Who I need to be
So clearly
But I pick up
Scratched glasses
And a few excuses
And a few crutches
And I forget the milk

It’s the loaf of bread to my yeast infection
The B-minus to my grade perfection
A bad split when I need to get laid
An overdraft when I need to get paid

I see my good intentions
Like a grocery list
So clearly
But I go for the milk
And I forget the milk
I always go for the milk
And forget the milk.