deeper, creasing like a piece of paper. But origami never seemed so beautiful.
“Pack it in, give it up, and let it go. You’ll only be the winner of the losers club.” Is what the cool kids say when the going gets too tough. So I laugh it off, live it up, and let it slide. I light a cigarette and try another time. What’s the point of living if you never strive for more? But I’m not keeping score.
We were once so young and dumb when the whole world seemed to notice us. We used to care so much about the pimples on our faces. No one ever told us it’s the words that stay. We used to daydream about the things we’ve come to call mundane. Always keeping our eyes fixed upon the next thing that we think we need. If only we could let the moment soak in.
“Pack it in, give it up, and let it go. You’ll only be the winner of the losers club.” Is what the cool kids say when the going gets too tough. So I laugh it off, live it up, and let it slide. I light a cigarette and try another time. What’s the point of living if you never strive for more? But I’m not keeping score.
‘Cause in the end the cool kids wind up just as miserable. Maybe the only way to win the game is not to play at all.
“Pack it in, give it up, and let it go. You’ll only be the winner of the losers club.” Is what the cool kids say when the going gets too tough. So I laugh it off, live it up, and let it slide. I light a cigarette and try another time. What’s the point of living if you never strive for more? But I’m not keeping score
