Porcupine Tree

All the things that I needed
I wasted my chances
I have found myself wanting
When a mother and father
Gave me their problems
I accepted them all
Nothing ever expected
I was rejected
But I came back for more
And my ashes drift beneath the silver sky
Where a boy rides on a bike and never smiles
And my ashes fall over all the things we've said
On a box of photographs under the bed