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Well sometimes I feel like Christmas morning
The lights on the tree
The smell of my memories
And sometimes I feel like a hot pile of garbage
That got left in the sun porch two days too long

I'm not one to complain in public
About how I'm feeling when I feel lonely
I keep it to myself
Sit in my bedroom
Wait till the demons decide to leave

I used to be scared of what's in the mirror
My bipolar dad
And falling from grace
But I made it through another birthday
A pre-diabetic with cake on my face

Well I play guitar, but just when I need to
I'm not getting better, just staying the same
And I don't listen to punk rock as much as I used to
I just listen to the nothing my radio makes

Well I only shower when my wife asks me
It's not that I don't care, I just don't care that much
And I though adulthood was supposed to be different
Maybe time forgot me
Or maybe God's out to lunch

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