Going to Alaska

I keep looking at the night sky, trying to come to resolutions
About the purpose of my life or some evil institution
But I always end up sitting with my head in my hands
Saying, «I guess there are a few things I’ll never understand.»
I met a girl on an airplane--I think her name was Maggie--
And we talked for a little while. It was the realest conversation I’d had in
months
I don’t know what it is about me
But I always think my good friends would be better off without me
So I’ll leave
Maybe I’ll move to Alaska
And live like a poet
But know that I don’t know shit, no
In ten years, I’ll be dead
Or in a cubicle
And I don’t know which one scares me more
I don’t know which one scares me more
Don’t give up on me 'til I do
I think I’ll know when it’s that time
So I’ll leave
Maybe I’ll move to Alaska
And live like a poet
But know that I don’t know shit, no
In ten years, I’ll be dead
Or in a cubicle
And I don’t know which one scares me more
I don’t know which one scares me more