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Yearbooks are like hand grenades,
If you donât want to let go you wake up missing a hand
And theyâre nostalgic at 23 for the things they barely lost
And the people that they happened to meet
Tear out the foreground and the people to the left of me
Look in the background for all the things you didnât see
Right behind this bar Iâve got some friends you should meet
We reminisce till weâre fucked up and then we puke in our own sheets
Every time we get together itâs all shit talk and whiskey breath
Itâs a wasted night we wonât remember
Maybe Iâll drink myself to death
Here it lies, all that remains
You donât wanna let go, you end up missing in the end
Donât be nostalgic at 23
All the things you thought you lost arenât even close to what you wanted to be
Clear out the background, the people to the right of me
Look in the playground for all the things you didnât see
Youâre full of shit, got some friends you should meet
We reminisce till weâre fucked up and then we puke it on our sheets
When it lies, we stay the same
For the people that we lost and the people that we happen to meet
There it lies, and there it stays
And youâre a mess and Iâm the same.
And if I have to be fucked up to put up with your bullshit, open up wide
I guess I better open up wide