Fuck this
We're all a bunch of pretentious pricks
If I was sober I dread to think
Who I'd fucking know where the fuck I'd drink

Being
In a
Hardcore band's
Not cool

'Cause I'm not the worst
But I put my hands up first
'Cause I don't know where I am
I swear to God I'm cursed

And in my moment of mental clarity my mind tells me
I don't want the things I used to want

There's a point to everything I've said
Well I think it's that I'm not sure what to expect (expect, expect)
Next

Sweating in this waiting room
Where I once held my breath for you
Hours passed and I sat still bored
Next time it won't happen
You can be assured

There's a point to everything I've said
Well I think it is but I'm not sure what to expect (expect, expect)
Next

You're so happy
Next time I'll be yours
You're so happy
Next time I won't be so sure