The End of Rock Piano - Spraynard

Isn’t it weird how all the years spent hating this place

Ultimately lead us back to the same block?

And I’m ashamed of the effort I put in

To look like every other dope in this coffee shop

I guess you could call it a symptom

Of this problem we have called growing up

«I'm sorry sir, we’ve got some bad news for you:

I don’t think we caught this one early enough»

And my dreams about my hair falling out

Well, they’re starting to come true

And the seams that held my thought process together

Well, they’re starting to undo

So you can send me out to pasture

You’ll find me at a bar or a post-rock/garage-rock show

Because I need to get to sleep a little faster

To forget about all the people that I used to know

And all the friends that I thought I’d miss so much

Are the ones that don’t ask when I’m around or not

And all the cool times that I thought we used to have

Just amount to smoking dope in the parking lot

I guess you could call it a symptom of thinking you had more than you do now

I don’t think I want to catch up sometime

I’m happy where we are now

And sometimes I run my fingers through my hair, and none of it falls out

And I think I’m in the process of learning what being young’s about

So I don’t think I’m headed for disaster

In fact, I think I’m leaving it behind

Because I’m way smarter than I was last year

So don’t ask me how I’m doing, because I’m doing fine