Watsky - Lost lyrics
[Watsky - Lost lyrics]
When I write some shit that's real
When I get a bunch of fans
When somebody understands me
When I win a bunch of Grammys
And Pitchfork writes an article that
Says that I don't suck
And I laugh off all the praise and
Claim that I don't give a fuck
But, I print the page and frame it
And I hang it on my wall
And linger at my name each time
I pass it in the hall
And remind myself each time I wanna
Curl up in a ball
That someone whose opinion mattered thought
I barely sucked at all
And I throw myself a party and
Invite a bunch of homies
That'll show me just how many
Other lonely people know me
Then I'll finally be satisified and
Be convinced I made it
And I'll taper off my meds
And get my license reinstated
I'll buy a truck and camper shell
And learn to play guitar
And every night I'll fuck the girl I
Love and sleep under the stars
And I'll live out in the country
Til I get the urge to
Move and start to feel like I
Got something left to prove
I'm lost all out of answers
Exhausted homelands I've traveled across
Rolled and I've gathered no moss
Only found that I'm lost
I know the fucking mantras
I've done the daily practice
I've tried restructuring my life
The fact is as this planet roams
The galaxy rotating on it's axis
I'm still anxious throwing random darts
Up at the atlas
As if I'll address my issues through
The issue of my address
But, I can't outlast the shadow
Of this vast expansive sadness
I'm lying on a mattress feeling tragic
Trying not to let my maturation
Bleed the world of magic
As if abracadabra could patch
My spirit's fraying fabric
And I could go back to
Feeling all syrupy and ecstatic
I crave a blade that's cleaving
Through this gruesome havoc
Navigating past my weakest thoughts like
Weaving through some traffic
But, I'm clueless
My habit's are the cruelest
And love is not some item I can
Write on my to do list
And I am not some miracle
That walks this lucky ground
Heaven knows that it's the other way around
When I get a bunch of fans
When somebody understands me
When I win a bunch of Grammys
And Pitchfork writes an article that
Says that I don't suck
And I laugh off all the praise and
Claim that I don't give a fuck
But, I print the page and frame it
And I hang it on my wall
And linger at my name each time
I pass it in the hall
And remind myself each time I wanna
Curl up in a ball
That someone whose opinion mattered thought
I barely sucked at all
And I throw myself a party and
Invite a bunch of homies
That'll show me just how many
Other lonely people know me
Then I'll finally be satisified and
Be convinced I made it
And I'll taper off my meds
And get my license reinstated
I'll buy a truck and camper shell
And learn to play guitar
And every night I'll fuck the girl I
Love and sleep under the stars
And I'll live out in the country
Til I get the urge to
Move and start to feel like I
Got something left to prove
I'm lost all out of answers
Exhausted homelands I've traveled across
Rolled and I've gathered no moss
Only found that I'm lost
I know the fucking mantras
I've done the daily practice
I've tried restructuring my life
The fact is as this planet roams
The galaxy rotating on it's axis
I'm still anxious throwing random darts
Up at the atlas
As if I'll address my issues through
The issue of my address
But, I can't outlast the shadow
Of this vast expansive sadness
I'm lying on a mattress feeling tragic
Trying not to let my maturation
Bleed the world of magic
As if abracadabra could patch
My spirit's fraying fabric
And I could go back to
Feeling all syrupy and ecstatic
I crave a blade that's cleaving
Through this gruesome havoc
Navigating past my weakest thoughts like
Weaving through some traffic
But, I'm clueless
My habit's are the cruelest
And love is not some item I can
Write on my to do list
And I am not some miracle
That walks this lucky ground
Heaven knows that it's the other way around