She was part of the Air Force, I was part of the band
I always used to bust into her hand
In my, my, my imagination
I was livin' my best life, livin' with my parents
Way before the paying penance and verbal propellants
And my, my, my cancellation
Mm, yeah

And I fell in love with a boy, it was kinda lame
I was Rimbaud and he was Paul Verlaine
In my, my, my imagination
So many cringes and heroin binges
I was comin' off the hinges, livin' on the fringes
Of my, my, my imagination
Oh, yeah

Enough about me now
"You gotta talk about the people, baby"
(But that's kind of the idea)

At home, somewhere I don't like
Eating stuff off of motorbikes
Coming to her lookalikes
I can't get the language right
Just tell me what's unladylike

I know some Vaccinista tote bag chic baristas
Sittin' east on their communista keisters
Writin' about their ejaculations
"I like my men like I like my coffee
Full of soy milk and so sweet, it won't offend anybody"
While staining the pages of the nation, oh, yeah

A Xanax and a Newport
"Well I take care of my kids", she said

The worst inside of us begets
That feeling on the internet
It's like someone intended it
(Like advertising cigarettes)
A diamond in the rough begets
The diamond with a scruff you get

(One, two, three, four)

Am I ironically woke? The butt of my joke?
Or am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke
Callin' his ego imagination?
I've not picked up that in a thousand four hundred days
And nine hours and sixteen minutes, babe
It's kind of my daily iteration Writer/s: George Bedford Daniel, Jamie Squire, Matthew Healy
Publisher: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind