comic sans

(Eric, E-Eric, look at me) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, da-da, da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) If it were up to me, I would be a tree Sit under the sun and smoke a blunt full of debris I ain't got a job and I ain't got no damn degree But the time I spend is wise and hours split up into threes So I'm hoping that the work I'll put into this shit is worth it I ain't got nobody in my tent up in the circus Write another body make the header have a purpose Yeah, I like the title, but the shit you say is- (goofy, did you even use your head?) If it were up to me, I would probably leave Split the door in two, so I can walk through it with ease I ain't got no destination set inside of me By the time I hit the ground, I'll start to feel it in my knees Stayed inside for twenty years and I can't tell you if it's worth it Everyone acquainted, they just know me on the surface Write another body make the header have a purpose Yeah, I like the title, but the shit you say is worthless Searching for acceptance in the ones I call my friends I don't really talk, but I sure hope you understand Everybody talking shit can catch these fucking hands Catch these fucking hands, yeah, yeah, yeah And lately it's been harder for me, try to understand I put myself in predicaments, that I never have planned I don't go outside, if i do, it's for groceries and fans Any day now I could die, please etch my grave in Comic Sans (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, da-da, da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) If it were up to me, I'd be shooting threes This would be a hobby and my shooting would be sweet I'd be 6'4" and driving foreigns on the street Maybe playing for the Bulls against a team that I could beat But I'm really not athletic, so I don't think it'd be worth it I don't stand a chance, so imma stay inside rehearsing Write another body make the header have a purpose Yeah, I like the title, but the shit you say is- (Dumb, it's just fucking dumb) If it were up to me, I'd be more discrete Wondering the dark until there's blisters on my feet Tear off all my skin under the middle of the street lights And crawl into a Hobbit hole in midst of my defeat Guess the corners of my eyes could probably tell you That it's worth it It's head versus heart and my thoughts tend to make me nervous Write another body make the header have a purpose Yeah, I like the title, but the shit you say is worthless Searching for acceptance in the ones I call my friends I don't really talk, but I sure hope you understand Everybody talking shit can catch these fucking hands Catch these fucking hands, yeah, yeah, yeah And lately it's been harder for me, try to understand I put myself in predicaments, that I never have planned I don't go outside, if i do, it's for groceries and fans Any day now I could die, please etch my grave in Comic Sans (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, da-da, da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, la-da-da-da) (La-da-da-da, la-da-da-da, da)