I watched them in their polo tees and stupid baggy leg washed jeans And sang about their problems to electric guitars But eight years later everything isn't what this time should bring We're hipsters with DSLR but we still can't drive a car And all the criminals and basketcases, princesses and brains Even all the jocks shove on these big thick glasses frames They think themselves so many as they drive away with friends They're having fun they're playing phones they sing along it never ends Eventually you'll realize that it's all the same Filled with princesses, criminals, basketcases, jocks, and brains But when you were an eight-year-old you thought you'd be alive Once you entered high school at the teenage of 2005 But I cannot take it seriously the things that they condone Saying "Hey homedog, what's up" on their rounded silver flip phones An existential crisis on a stupid polo tee I'd be way too busy laughing and be on the floor laughing at me So you can hate the phonies or the plastics or the gays But since everyone's an asshole there will not be better days You can wear a dumb red hunting cap or think you're really funny But you will be a moron 'til the day that you turn twenty And when you see a happy flapper you can't help but be quite sad 'Cause you know the Great Depression killed now all the costs she had And when you see a happy traveler in a photo from the '50s He might have died in Vietnam or overdosed on LSD with hippies I hope I'm not a poster child for an economic collapse Or maybe of a shark attack or of World War III perhaps Maybe in a hundred years they will look back on us and sigh "It's a shame they had to die in that tragedy that's not yet specified" And now I'm rambling again this time in ambiguous rhyme scheme Maybe it's just angsty runoff beat 'cause I'll soon be sixteen Sure my thoughts are messed up but there's one thought on my mind "Why'd I think today would the same as in 2005? "