what's my deal? and do i even want one? what's the time, and do i care? do i stay awake all these hours? do i mind my unwashed hair? does it suck that i'm broke and lousy, or does that add some flair? i'm counting, i'm always counting to calculate some depressingly endless fare
for so long i didn't ask myself, do you fucking dare? do you want to chase a dream or just gasp for noxious air?
does the world know that i'm twenty-three? what's the time, and do they care? do they know that i'm chasing after them, do they feel my boundless stare? do they know my soul's so bare?