Boomer Etc.

Boomer, look at me back living with my parents

Making an appearance as a guest in my high school bed

Bored with myself and my predictable depression

Same old chord progressions

But my lyrics were better back then

Oh well

My fault

It'll only get worse with age

But I will make art

Until it kills me

Gotta sneak away for a smoke

Old friends seem formal, not stoked

Either you lost your sense of humor or they don't get your jokes

They all quit smoking these days

In fact, you're the last one

Chiefed a lonely little spliff on the front porch

It's a lousy mess of adulthood

Looking for a job on Craigslist like I should

Got my resume just today, all spruced up with lies

'Cause I don't want to work in retail for the rest of my life, oh

Oh well

My fault

I can always sell lemonade

But I will make art

Until it kills me

Boomer, you’re my last good friend

You’re too soon old, too short on time

Rest your achy bones in your bed

Enjoy your final curtsy of life

Your death will be a real heartbreaker

I assume, it’s only natural I guess

No less a bummer

Keep in good health and keep up with your peers

Gotta reinvent yourself, don't be the redundant adjective

Nobody cares about your travels

So you sound like you're bragging about the countries you've been in but

I can recall a day when you knew my middle name and

We mostly felt the same now

That kind of magic can only exist in the mothballs of memory

Your eyes roll at me like, "Go tell it to your family dog"

'Cause Boomer, you’re my last good friend

I can tell you can tell I'm leaving again

Just hang in there a few more months

I swear I'll make it worth it for you

A belly rub to end all the pain

Now close your eyes, if this is goodbye

Just know I love you