You’re always high and I’m always drunk
We think we’re justified by saying we’re still young
When I turn 25, as if anything will change
Will I have made up my mind about staying in one place for more than a year
Maybe two or three
Most of all, will I be happy?
No, I don’t think so
You’re never there and I’m never quite awake
So I won’t recognize the weight of my mistakes
When I turn 25, as if anything will change
Will I be satisfied and will we be happy
I’m starting to get into trouble
‘Cause after all of these years, all the numbers, they still don’t add up.
But most of all, will I be happy