I've always known I'm just not built for 9 to 5s. But it's getting harder and harder to survive. Suit up, stay alive? Or fight. Fight.

you took me to the top of some building
watching the political city stretch out with political lights
saying, the tuition is worth it just for the view.

I was ready to move there, thinking of June.
Like, everything would be better if I were older.
Like, you'd love me if I had been a bit bolder.
No. This was not my place.
I was still a child looking for a dream to chase.

You weren't the dream, you were maddening at best.
The shot in the dark, New York City, burned in my chest.

Never mind May, it's nearly June.
I am so tired of this fucking room.
So escape escape escape or don't.

The boy of my dreams is not the man I am seeing.
Remorse hits the back of my head as he grazes my body.
In this changing weather, I just don't know any better.