Blessed hedonist
What's there to think about
Stomach hits the couch
Gracefully again

Reading on the web
Self-hatred at the bookends
And it'd be a godsend
If I ever outlive this

Teenage malaise
Buried in sheets for days
Teenage malaise
Burnt out for days

Finally leaving the house
Memorized your voicemail
Far from disrepair
Not the charred sheep I am

Guess I'm turning back
Tried to conquer the abyss
But drowned myself in it
You're the reflection in my backdrop, honey

It'd be a godsend
If I ever outlive this

Teenage malaise
Buried in sheets for days
Teenage malaise
Burnt out for days