Look at you, you're perfect, 
Hoodie hanging just right, 
Tattooed arm, cigarettes, 
Unaware of your might

Yeah, sure, your pants are baggy, 
And your mesmer-eyes are blue, 
And you leave me feeling hollow, 
As she makes plans with you

What do I have to offer?
Suicides and unhappy times, 
Compared to your youthful wonder, 
I'm just four tracks and shitty rhymes