| Obsessed with my success and other people’s ages
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| Don’t need to tell you that I’m jaded
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| Stopping at a Waffle House off of 85
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| I haven’t moved an inch since I was seventeen
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| Maybe my gut’s a little bigger
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| And my shirts don’t fit right anymore
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| What’s the point of pushing on anymore?
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| I’m always tired, or maybe I’m always bored
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| I was told that I’d be fine when I got old
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| But now I’m thinking that’s a lie
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| So l down these fries before they get too cold
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| If I don’t feel love in the places I call home
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| Can I feel anything in general?
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| Is it me? |
| Can I get through this?
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| Is there a way to wash it off, or is this stain permanent?
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| I watch my double descend into the Echo with me
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| He’s got a craft beer in one hand and a pocket full of Molly
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| Everyone’s always a few deep
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| They mash up pop songs I’ve never heard
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| But I know the melody
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| Now his hands are up in the air like everything’s a possibility
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| Fifteen years on and I still hate this
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| But I bet even he’d call me a friend
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| Because I’m the only one stuck living like this —
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| Alone in my own head
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| I feel like ECT has corrupted my core memory
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| I’ve been here before, and I’ll be here when everybody goes
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| When I’m only waking up
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| Because the sun’s too strong for my cheap blinds
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| I head for for couch and think some day there’ll be a sign
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| Why can’t I act my age, or find a way to get to work?
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| To pay the rent on this dark space
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| Spruce it up and put some paint on the walls
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| Try to clean at least every other week
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| Unpack the boxes
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| Put away the mess eventually |