Girls who smoke weed,
They don't like me,
Like when I was nineteen.
I'm not sure what that means.
I'm over underwhelming.
Quarter life crisis,
Let's pray that our vices,
Will never subside.
Will you stay by my side?
I'm far too young to feel so jaded.
I'm far too old to feel alienated.
Too broke to be medicated.
They've long since grown tired with all my lamenting.
But there's something about me that keeps on preventing,
Me from shaking the feeling,
That if nobody's worried than nobody cares.