English and History

Things are already different from when I started
My mom tripped ayahuasca and now seems to get it
And I find that I don't miss my good friends as often
And then when i see them it's fine that it's quick
And this Austin skyline at sunset reminds me
Of who I had been in 2013
Alone in a city but content and enjoying it
And now time alone makes me want to go and cut my wrists
I wanna get off the internet but that would kill the band
I wanna get off more often but when I'm fucked up I can't
And I'm fucking up subtly but nonetheless constantly
And I fear this menagerie will come crashing down around me

I reread my journal from fall 2014
And was amazed by the quantity of sangria i was consuming
And the number of novels i was putting away
Afternoons in the grass while my girlfriend was programming
Dinner in Chinatown before napping to "Holocene"
And playing along with "Ghosts of the Great Highway"
Then Sergio and Alberto would come by to drink scotch
And I'd leave to smoke spliffs and then dance my face off
Now Thursdays I talk to two or three people tops
And I try not to look at 538 and fox
And Kimiko wants to help me and I say that you're doing
All that is possible, and it's perfect, it's working
But either this life was not what I was meant for
Or early adulthood has not broken me down cause
I find myself pining for unpredictability
I wrote a whole album just to relive that part of me
I wrote two whole books cause I foresaw this reality
And I wanted to keep my twenty-somethings company
But now he's the enemy
Why did you abandon me?
Why did you shun art for rooftop sixty-nine-ing?
Why didn't you apply for a Fulbright or something?
Why didn't you major in english and history?
How could you assume this would all be so easy?
You think that you've made it?
Well you're nothing
You're dead to me

But maybe this is the part when I break it
When I finally appreciate the sheer luck I was handed
So maybe I'm done investing in this emotionally
I'll quit music to play cricket with Pakistanis
Make friends with baristas, drink mimosas on weekdays
And look back on this trilogy with synthetic complacency
And all that seems fine for someone whose fantasies
Were killed by stock options that dividend quarterly
But this personal lobotomy that I've been conducting
Is starting to hemorrhage so I'm thinking
Of changing my name again
And moving back east
And ceasing to contact anyone who ever knew me
I'll stand on the stages with no expectation
For anything to ever come from all of these daydreams
Where i'm doing lines at an apartment in the East Village
Playing a house party fucked up in Cambridge
Sawing my hands off in Grand Central Station
Making a living off of sexual frustration
And aren't we all dumb shits
And don't we all know it
Tell people I'm nineteen 'til I fucking believe it
Completely forgotten how to calculate integrals
Got a drunken tattoo of The Sun Also Rises
I'm getting my French down and talking to strangers
And said yes to drugs that I've always been scared of
And got to a point where I'm broke
And don't care that my degree says that I'm an adult
Cause I'm not and I'll never be
I'm the king of hypocrisy
I'm fucking hysterical
Got a record on Spotify
Got a job wrecking paradise
Got two different parties I can go to
To watch the world end
As the hydrogen splits and the shockwave rolls in
While I'm thinking about if I want one more drink
And everybody around has got their heads in their screens
And the record that's playing is The Strokes' 'Is This It'
Well I guess that it is

(Walk across the bay bridge tied to who you think you'll die with
They say Outer Sunset's cute
Kids on macbooks in their bedrooms)