New Old

歌詞

Enough of the old-times eyes Enough of the same old reprise So ugly So tired So bored So true I don't know what do with you Now number three on the side has been giving me the eye Like somehow I'm the one who's crossed the line And you? Your songs write themselves And you? You're no better You know, this place will wear you down Ain't much left to do but wait for some good news You in the corner shaking just staring at your phone Singing "I gotta get outta here. I gotta go home." I'm trapped in a sea of debris I am five I am fifty I am fifteen She spins around and says "so, what's your theme?" Says she wants to know what is it I mean To maintain a distance I no longer occupy The ongoing joke I continue to choke down