I was face down on the floor when it fell from the ceiling
A slap on the sunburn, a lust for the feeling
Of sweating on a curb in deep Indiana
Dreaming of that Chinese in Champaign-Urbana
I'll be waiting at the door
Aging and desperate to ignore
Every day that never was
It felt so great to feel so lost
No one's showing up, so we treat it like practice
No one's pulling hair over snow storms or taxes
Sitting on the couch at Megan's with Brian
Telling us about some malt liquor king can
That he shotgunned in the woods
Felt like a ghost next to his buds
You know, I tried it once and I
Saw the moment that I'd die
I'll be waiting at the door
Aging and desperate to ignore
Every day that never was
It felt so great to feel so lost
