Here we go again
Now I'm 23
It's almost as every year
I grow another year

And maybe you will hear me out
When I tell that I'm sick of these
Birthday bits forcing me to summarize
Get my feelings organized

I despise this process of retrospective nonsense
But I'm eight years deep with this tradition
It's too late to skip a year or maybe round it up to ten
Then take a break

Enjoying these in hindsight just might be
The only reason that I still try to write songs
And maybe I'm not wrong when I think

That I don't have much to discuss
Yet I must
I feel that if I don't some would get really pissed off at me
It's not supposed to be like this

But I'm eight years deep
Half of my conscious life has just been this
And I miss the increase of love that has since passed
I wasted time and time is money so I did some freelance