Elsher - Where Did the Days Go? lyrics

I fantasized about this back in my soph*more, Few years later now I fantasize at Swarthmore, Losing consciousness every night, waking up awful, Back when I sat in my dorm room asking ,“What's it all for?” It became an art form—finding messages in bottles, Let the hall know I might be drowning out my sorrows, Let my moms know I might not be around tomorrow, Took the last sip and asked, “What's it all for?” I took the sip, took a seat, took a hit, and thought, "sh**, This can't be life," I looked at him, looked at her, looked at me, and thought, "Damn, They're all right," So I write and I wrote every night and I quote That I wrote the following pa**age before the pa**ing of my innocence, “Goody two-shoes hanging from the telephone lines.” If that to you, doesn't make any sense, Then you lost your youth a long time ago, friend, Back when the neighbor's kid knocked on your door asking, “Can so-and-so come out to play?” Back when crossing the street was the farthest you could run away, Back when you hadn't even thought of running away, Because people didn't die, money didn't exist, and the world was a safe place, Or so we thought, Should've known better but those street lights come on when it get's dark, So we had that extra hour to kick that ball around, or ride the bike down town, Or look for the kid we never found playing Hide and Seek, I mean, yeah, you waited behind that bush for an hour and a half, But at least you knew someone was looking for you, Nowadays it feels like I'm not even looking out for myself, Pouring these poisons down my throat to drown the cries for help, If my mother asks, that's just a metaphor; you know how English majors are, Well broke English majors resort to broken English for paper, Because you know I'm not getting a job, Oh the monotony, Working nine to fives in a cubicle could be cool, but I'd rather not, Rather write words, follow dreams, and be a fool, than live life locked, Coming home to my suburban home in a good school district, All for my kids and a pa**ionless kiss from my wife, Eating this burnt pasta, thinking “This can't be life.” If that's good for you, then you do you and I'll do me, And not do you, because I haven't done someone for the past some-teen years, And god damn it, I'll do it again, just watch. Sexed up and crazy, these kids next up are crazy, Dressed up all sleazy, but who am I to judge? I'm still looking for speakeasies so I could speak to her easy, So don't go and tease me when I say I need it, Two more years and I swear I'll be legal, That's another metaphor for moms, please believe it, I'm somewhere in my adolescence, my twenties are a year away, Last year, I sat on my couch, watching the clock go from 59 to 00, That's a scary place. At seventeen I thought seventeen was my prime, At eighteen every thought about seventeen had me crying, Now I'm nineteen with a purpose, only took me a year to learn this, At nineteen I thought every year after would be just fine.