You laugh and pretend to like soccer
with your friends
And swap oxymorons, maybe one last time
Like: personal philosophies and "College World Series"
And I fast-forward "True Love Will Find You In The End"
Conversation's a kitchen sink
It's a sign of times you think
everybody wants to write
every job is some kind of publishing
Then, the doorbell starts to ring
Your favorite birthday's when they sing:
"We know you're not a prodigy at anything."
So we just hang out in these alleys to stay off the streets
when fighting in a proxy war is the nearest thing to peace
I've got love for other cities
Can't you read our jerseys?
We'd trade in all the banners for mystique
So we get drinks, and that's it
It's the last thing on the list
when the only code I share with you is morse,
For the umpteenth time you try
you wanna know what it's just like
It's like you missed the red eye flight
And lied down alone at night
You know that feeling when your phone's about to die?
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