Well....
All my friends are 31
We're getting' old we're having fun
Every night we end up drunk
Meet new girls we’d like to fuck
All my friends live on their own
In their little, shitty, punk rock, 1-bedroom home
They all have shitty jobs
Guess that’s why we do all those shitty drugs
But things aren't how they said it'd be
Got lied to by society
Get good grades in school, get a diploma
We can be whatever we want when we grow up
So, why are we stuck in these dead-end jobs?
All my friends have colored hair
None of those friends really seem to care
If ink and needle marks track their skin
Thats because they all bang heroin
Things aren't how I imagined
All my ex’s waitresses
All my ex’s live in Texas
All off them bang in their veins, veins, veins, veins
I’m so vain now
All my friends deliver pizzas, all my friends sell drugs, my friends break into cars
I don’t do none of the above.
I don’t do shit.
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