Yacolt, a Song About Contemporary Eschewal

And it’s been a couple nights since I snuck out to the haunted house
To do some drugs and meet some ghost and escape my friends
They’re all fake friends
And we’re all just 3 foot 6 inches tall
And one wrong street we’re ready to end it all
Stocking up the shelves with their dumb thoughts like a stupid tweet I already
forgot
It’s almost like it’s bad for our health
But people just don’t know the right words to say
And I sure wish I knew the right words to say
And I would sing it like a lullaby knowing full-well the words were not mine
And you’ll bury me in the day-old clothes
Brush your teeth, flip the side, fall asleep, hope no one knows
And we’re all our own worst enemies
I fantasize unhealthily about things that I won’t say here
But I think one day we will wake up
From the stupid dreams, the dead end jobs
AIDS needles in the parking lots
The shallow graves and cutting words that hurt so God damn much
Oh
Oh
But I think we should all just give up now to avoid the embarrassment
The failure fallin' out our lips
And grandma’s hip gave out at the top of the stairs
She came tumblin' down
Tumblin', tumblin', tumblin' down
And why won’t I just wake up?
She keeps tumblin' down
And tumblin', tumblin', tumblin' down
And why won’t I just wake up now?
One, two, one, two, three, four!