I am not ready to lose the hearts of market researchers, and i know

I’ve been cold to them, but also that looking through rose glass gets me down

They’re the kid on the bus staring, who you wish would look away and when she does

You miss the feeling of being watched, of having some real effect

But what scares me more is the thought of myself trying to trade in cool with horseshoe hair

And ears blown out by years of trying to be more important than

A man should strive to be, singing “look at me, i’m striving, look at me”

Look away and smile at the guy singing his daughter a pretty lullaby

Wake up with the same problems

Go to bed

You’re another day older

Go to bed