Lletres: The Early November. Look At Me.

Everybody looks at me
Like they're so surprised that I can breathe.
I need to get out of this town.
I need to run for my own now.

And all my lack of style, I blame on him.
And all I want is this...
I need to have my time.
But I'm glued, I'm glued to the script.

Everybody looks at me
Then turns to their friend and says something.
I hate this town and my new life.
I'm tired of waiting all the time.

And all my lack of skill, I blame on him.
And all I ask is this...
I need to feel alive...
But you're glued, you're glued to the script.