I only feel real if I’m real to you
You only feel real if you’re real to me.
Empty conversations of fellow friends
Filled up screen, empty heads, lonely beds.
Is it worth it? Paint it red, yellow, blue
Morning routines – give me something new.
You don’t remember me, I don’t remember you
Let’s talk about memories far, far removed.
We apologize, but we’re not sorry
We eat, but we’re not starving.
We make small talk, but we don’t care –
About your job, your kids, your husband, your affair.
And we toast to you, an abstract mirage
And we toast to me, an illusion – a facade.
We dance like we’re being shot by an AK47
We fall face first into a slurpee from 7-11.
What a grand gesture this reunion is
With all our loved ones, family, and friends.
Talking about who we could have been
Not making eye contact until the end.
When we say goodbye and that we’ll keep in touch
We’ll say we miss them and they mean so much.
But this doesn’t mean a thing, this doesn’t mean shit
And we realize only one thing matters – just the tip.