Lyrics: PBLIX
Music: PBLIX
Arranger: PBLIX
My friend asked if I looked skinnier
I said I have only lost my soul
Cause ever since last summer in Toronto,
I've been working on this goddamn song
Cause I don’t know how to play guitar
and pretty much anything else
I’ve got a quarter of my life jammed into this verse
I’m leaving this town for good
People watching on the Peloton
God, I hate Sunday afternoons
There’s a parade going on down there
On the streets I don’t belong
Wish I could tell who voted for Trump
When I’m doomscrolling on my phone
I got a flight out of Gotham City,
I landed where the new Batman was filmed
How many miles can you make it on your own
How many photos can you take with the same pose?
How much would you bet on me to lose
You can blame it on nobody but yourself
How many miles can you make it on your own
How many photos can you take with the same pose?
How many nights did you cooped up in your room, screaming
How does it feel
You're the butt of the joke
Oh, how does it feel
This is the end of the road
She said you didn’t miss out on your college experience
It was a university
And when we finally settle down, in this small town
I’ll buy you that air fryer, tend to all your needs
We could name our dog after Dougie Jones
Show me part of the town I was not allowed to go
But from a call centre in Lawndale, California
My dream girl hang up her phone
How many miles did you make it on your own
How many photos did you take with the same pose?
How much money did you lose on me
When you played the cards that were dealt to you
How many miles did you make it on your own
How many photos did you take with the same pose?
I hate to be the one that reminds you, but, buddy
How does it feel
You need to let go
Oh, how does it feel
There's always, there’s always, there’s always…
I’m leaving tomorrow
I’m leaving tomorrow
I’m leaving tomorrow
I’m leaving tomorrow
I’m leaving tomorrow
I’m leaving tomorrow
I’m leaving tomorrow
I’m leaving tomorrow