My, My

I guess I got a little rude with you,
if you were me, you'd be rude too.
I guess the kinder memories are through;
I picked my memories like I wanted to.

My, my, ain't it funny anymore?
Why? Why?  We scream and scream.
By and by, we come running back for more;
like it's ice cream...bringing brain freeze to a dream.

I can't hear the telephone I threw away;
so when you call it rings out loud deep in the bay.
I guess the blessed happy good times didn't show;
I guess this season is the one where I should go.

My, my, ain't it funny anymore?
Why?  Why? We scream and scream;
By and by it seems we've closed the open door,
like it's raining, the dreamer doesn't dream.

So you call this independence day;
I'd still call it like "the one that got away"
and I still think that there are better words to say
but I'm too far gone to hear them anyway.

My, my, ain't it funny anymore?
Why?  Why? we scream and scream;
By and by we learn the whole world is a whore,
and here we are stuck in between, getting brain freeze in a dream.

What's it for?