Does it even really matter?
Does anything at all?
These things I'm chasing after,
Will they be there when I'm gone?
Will you catch me when I fall?
Am I making sense at all?
I think it's time I faced the facts.
Life's passed me by in the last couple laps,
And I never really had a grasp
Of how to sell my soul or shake my ass.
So I don't know how to say this,
But it feels like my life's been wasted.
I'm sitting contemplating
About everything that needs complaining.