this guitar's gonna kill me

This guitar’s gonna kill me
All my friends in metal bands don’t care about death
All my friends in metal bands are getting married… what the heck
I’m sitting on my couch
I got from Nick, drunk and tired nursing a bruised ego
While all my friends in metal bands are happy as fuck living in their tour van
Listening to algorithm and blues
That’s not right
You check on me now and again and I’m way too contemplative
The care you’ve shown me through the years is so appreciated
'Cause I’m your friend that’s in a band
But don’t feel much like playing
I created my own circumstance
But feel incapable of changing
I just can’t move
Twenty something, tunnel vision, Saturdays with no cartoons
Happy in my second story, I get lonely & clean my room
Looking like I’ve seen a few things, feeling like they’re mostly true
Sold my van, moved to Los Angeles and I met you
Fuck it
All my friends in punk rock bands don’t care about the man
All my friends in punk rock bands don’t even have an Instagram
Sitting here and I’m stoned as fuck and I’m thinking about the end of me
While all my friends in punk rock bands are plotting the end to their enemies
Listening
Listening to algorithm and blues