I Don't Stand For Anything

I don’t stand for anything, so I’ll die in the morning
I hear you talk about life and how you think I should live
Like it isn’t infinitely boring
Yeah, you talk my ears off
Train my eardrums to be less sensitive
My cochlea isn’t bunched, you don’t know how I balance my shit
Get the fuck away from me
Everything you say is like a press tour
You are selling a book that your best friend wouldn’t read with the eyes of his
enemy
The everyman isn’t checking for you
He isn’t checking for me, but I don’t give a fuck
I don’t have instructions on stress or how to give it up
I don’t have directions to heaven, I know I sin enough
If people wanna get fucked up and live it up
Let people get fucked up, maybe they’ll give it up
Maybe they’ll die, so what?
What makes you think you know better than me or he or she about fulfilment?
Have you lived this life thrice, left the building twice?
Even if you died ten times and came back
The only relevant question is how you haven’t snapped yet
I question the appearance of your sanity and calmness
You carry yourself impeccably
Most of us only hope to carry ourselves well
Are you tryinna' make me feel bad with management skills?
I smell the upsell on your overly eloquent breath
28 — you a priest of peace?
Let me guess
You go to the gym with a guerrilla pod
Know the best downlight spots, where the mirrors are
Measure your progression by the number of indolent hearts
You mistake and —