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Retirement Party
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Hall Beach
My mother always told me about
How my smile looks better with my teeth
From six years on it sat at my bedside table
For whatever occasion I might need
A little pick me up, a little white mask to boost my self esteem
I'm not afraid of death, but I'm sure as hell afraid of dying
Is it traditional?
Am I a fake?
When I hold back a smile in attempt to change
The existential doubt running through my brain
If progress was measured by late nights and time
That I spend away from my goddamn mind
I guess you could say I'm doing alright
My balance is the best it's ever been
But I still find myself tripping up the stairs
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At least I'm not twisting, turning, tumbling down
A few bruised ribs is all I can bear
Got to rest up
Take a few pills, get myself prepared
This fleeting gain is nowhere near enough to get me there
Is it traditional?
Am I a fake?
When I hold back a smile in attempt to change
The existential doubt running through my brain
If progress was measured by late nights and time
That I spend away from my goddamn mind
I guess you could say I'm doing alright
Yeah, I'm doing alright
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