I'm getting older, I think I'm aging well I wish someone had told me I'd be doing this by myself There's reasons that I'm thankful, there's a lot I'm grateful for But it's different when a stranger's always waiting at your door Which is ironic 'cause the strangers seem to want me more Than anyone before (anyone before) Too bad they're usually deranged Last week, I realized I crave pity When I retell a story, I make everything sound worse Can't shake the feeling that I'm just bad at healing And maybe that's the reason every sentence sounds rehearsed Which is ironic because when I wasn't honest, I was still being ignored (Lying for attention just to get neglection) Now we're estranged Things I once enjoyed (ah-ah) Just keep me employed now Things I'm longing for Someday, I'll be bored of It's so weird That we care so much until we don't I'm getting older, I've got more on my shoulders But I'm getting better at admitting when I'm wrong I'm happier than ever, at least that's my endeavor To keep myself together and prioritize my pleasure 'Cause to be honest, I just wish that what I promise Would depend on what I'm given (not on his permission) (Wasn't my decision) to be abused, mmm Thin