Presumably Dead Arm (617 Sessions)

Just to start this off

This isn't the start of anything

Just a song that I can sing to you

We're standing in a graveyard

A presumably dead arm popped through the grass

And who doesn't talk about that?

Honey, you are nothing to me

Alcohol and dopamine

I'm dying on the sofa

And I barely know the time

But like an old man, say I reckon

I love you for a millisecond

But I don't wear a watch or Rolex

And my brain's a toddler rollerskating down a hill

I took a spill and ran into a tree and suffered minor injuries

Honey, you are nothing to me

I don't call people anything that's thought to be so sweet

But I'm just being bitchy

'Cause every stupid boy skipped over me

On our twilight hour meet and greet

A coffee table theater scene

But disregard the soaring check back there in corner three

I'd rather let the poor kid sleep

But he's tripping balls, he's tripping testes

LSD, post-wisdom teeth

He got lost in the shower and he barely knows the hour

I wanna know your passwords

Without changing them in Preferences

And all the childhood streets and deceased pets that they're referencing

And in the box, I'll type

I'll know all the numbers to try

I wanna know the lyrics that you think of when you're high

I'm in love with strangers who I've never even seen

In love with weird cut bangs and sweaters swaying kind of awkwardly

And I'm in love with fresh air friends from overheated houses

Till I Uber up a giant park and dump my body in my dorm bed

Honey, you are nothing to me

I don't call people anything that's thought to be so sweet

The speech is coming back with a vengeance, it seems

And all these pretend spouses are a happy storybook

That'll turn to stark nonfiction in the time it took

For me to notice that I'm old, which means I'll be 30 and happy

Likely married to personified business casual khakis

And I'll forget about it when I wake up late and stupid

I tried to tell the Uber driver till he tried to hit it

I tried to tell myself because I've come this far along

Carrying my zombie arm to the 14th-grade prom

Honey, you are nothing to me

I don't call people anything that's thought to be so sweet

The speech is coming back with a vengeance, it seems

The speech is coming back with a vengeance, it seems