I’ll just go ahead and do whatever I want.
What does it matter when there’s no one to sing along?
Clean the blood off your legs with solo cup beer,
I don’t give a fuck as long as you’re here.

Times have changed,
I think it’s getting better.
I may be deranged,
So send me a letter, won’t you?

No need to leave it at the tone of the dreamphone!

My fingers are all calloused from how hard I strum
My right hand hurts and is covered in, uh, blood
The lack of annoyance makes the boredom worse
Maybe I should bite my nails or write another verse

But times have changed
I think it’s getting better
I may be deranged
So send me a letter, won’t you?

I’m tired of waiting for something to happen
I hate desperation with a passion
Layer on the jpegs and hope it looks good
I think the lack of talent is understood.

But times have changed
I think it’s getting better
I may be deranged
So send me a letter, won’t you?