Birds

It was late January, I'd been working myself straight weary

Don't you call just to hear me, you're not 21 anymore my dear

I can't relate to you now that I know what you can do

It was March, I was older, I crashed my truck at the busiest corner

Took it as a warning, somehow yellow lights are still so boring

I can't escape this lesson, are you okay is everyone's question

Now it's April, it's the morning, the birds are cute but they're fucking annoying

Bang my hands on the windows and tell them they're lucky that I forgive them

I hesitate these days, there isn't much left of me to give away

Don't worry it'll be okay, but that's what they always say