Weirdo Years

It’s ancient and predictable
Too smart to be happy and too dumb to be a success
Mum’s done her best and raised you wrong
Backbone like a stick and a head filled with Jungian slips
Music’s a terrible conduit for serious themes like dying alone with no peace
What an ironic end to thee I think
Cry while I try and sleep
Wish I had drowned in my dreams
Am I chasing that one thing I’m not allowed?
You might love me, but you sure don’t like me right now
What I am striving for is more or less truth in myself
Gonna get your goat eventually
How can I be a man this week?
Weirdo years far from complete
I’m grappling for reality
It’s «art through adversity»
Dad’s been far too kind to me
God damn, I’m bored by my own speech!
A privileged and passive life
Some say I’m barely alive
What does it mean to be a man this week?
Couldn’t tell you even if I knew
The truth’s lost on piss ants like you
Am I chasing that one thing I’m not allowed?
You might love me, but you sure don’t like me right now
What I am striving for is more or less truth in myself