Isn't it weird how all the years spent hating this place Ultimately lead us back to the same block? And I'm ashamed of the effort I put in To look like every other dope in this coffee shop I guess you could call it a symptom Of this problem we have called growing up "I'm sorry sir, we've got some bad news for you: I don't think we caught this one early enough" And my dreams about my hair falling out Well, they're starting to come true And the seams that held my thought process together Well, they're starting to undo So you can send me out to pasture You'll find me at a bar or a post-rock show Because I need to get to sleep a little faster To forget about all the people that I used to know And all the friends that I thought I'd miss so much Are the ones that don't ask when I'm around or not And all the cool times that I thought we used to have Just amount to smoking dope in the parking lot I guess you could call it a symptom of thinking you had more than you do now I don't think I want to catch up sometime I'm happy where we are now And sometimes I run my fingers through my hair, and none of it falls out And I think I'm in the process of learning what being young's about So I don't think I'm headed for disaster In fact, I think I'm leaving it behind Because I'm way smarter than I was last year So don't ask me how I'm doing, cause I'm doing fine.