Pog (Demo)

And I haven't had any fun this year
But that's fucking bullshit and
I haven't had any luck this year
I'm preaching to the choir. I know
I haven't been to my parents' house in months
And it looks like March
And the years before and my attitude's the same:
Familiar and worrisome

I pictured my death two times today
The tracks and the fire escape
Room of burnt toast and stacked dirty plates
And I'm the one responsible
I haven't had any luck this year
I know I'm preaching to the choir
But my nightmare's here and I forgot how to wake up
And start moving forward

And my mother said, "Son, I'm sorry you're neurotic."
And my dad said, "Son, I really thought you dodged the bullet."