Oh god, my mom
Just gave me a weed sticker to put onto my guitar
Rarely ever smoking weed but still I stuck it on
'Cause the stickers I put on there have a story or yarn
Someone I once knew gave me a sticker of a star
She told me I should put it on the back of my lanyard
(It looked a little lame, but I did it anyway)
And every time my friends asked I had to explain
Any hint of sentimentality I hold onto
The little things that I hold dear if it has any value
And when I have any single experience I have to write songs
Fuck, what's wrong
I know there's something that I just can't put my finger on
Oh, what's wrong with me
Tell me, please
Rip off a sticker for it just reminds me
I need to sleep
But hundreds of these memories keep playing on repeat
Of things I could've done
Or changed or handled differently
And it's looming like a specter constantly reminding me
That everything is volatile and soon one day will leave
Told me she enjoyed the night and now we never speak
(Never had merit, for all a sticker is)
Is a piece of fucking paper with nothing else to it
Idle hands make one want to take
A gun and place it in their face
A bird in the hand will make one break
It's fucking neck and throw it away
When your life's plans
Are just handed to you with no circumstance
All the little happenings mean so much more than you would think
And I know that the roots one day outgrow
And if I was there, you would too
Oh, what's wrong with me
Tell me, please
Rip off a sticker for it just reminds me
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