Just promise me one thin before leave
Maybe pretend I forgot how to speak English or something
I've got a lot of shit trapped in my head
Like the time we went and sat on the tracks and I stayed silent and ill-content
It's increasingly apparent
I kick my bruises too often
I write songs about drinking and smoking
And I care too much about what you'll think
And I do it all for the attention
It's never quite clear why I do it in the first place anyways
I am completely and utterly full of shit
If I tell you otherwise, you can disregard it
And I know that I don't really know you
And I know that I don't really tell the truth
And I'll probably just fail out of college or something
And I'll sell the books and work on something different with the expectation that it'll it end
And I know that I don't really know you
But I promise that I would like to tell the truth
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