No matter where you go to you can still sit on a couch
You can still sleep 'til it's dark outside
You can still just hang around
You can still not make new friends
You can ignore the ones you have
You can always ostracize yourself
You can forget how to laugh

Problems are all I create
I live in four month mistakes

So can we leave today and start the next mistake
Or are we fucked this time? Can we not go away?

Upon my last trip back there I remembered why I left
All their flakiness, my shakiness, the friends I've never met
But I didn't feel relief
In fact I just felt more regret
With a higher wage and a Metrocard I could deal with loneliness

And in four months when it finally gets warmer,
I'll have already planned more disorder
When I'm comfortable and feel like I'm in my place,
I'll be on my next mistake

Another boring story, another problem self-imposed
So can we leave today and start the next mistake
Or are we fucked this time? Can we not go away?
Blah blah blah problems self-imposed blah blah blah