Look at you, you're perfect,

Hoodie hanging just right,

Tattooed arm, cigarettes,

Unaware of your might



Yeah, sure, your pants are baggy,

And your mesmer-eyes are blue,

And you leave me feeling hollow,

As she makes plans with you



What do I have to offer?

Suicides and unhappy times,

Compared to your youthful wonder,

I'm just four tracks and shitty rhymes