I know since you've been free
you've seen a lot of cats like me
we fall asleep on the stairs and
wake up at tables in chairs
it doesn't make much sense to you
I still leave all this residue
I still mistake luck for wine
and progress for logic & time
believe me, I know it's been rough
I think about it way too much
I shouldn't flaunt and pretend
I didn't start, so why would you end?
I know you've seen the last of me
I know that it'll never be close to what I had with you
but that's fine
cause I want something new
I'm gonna hit the road
I'm gonna move to Cleveland
I'm gonna die
I'm gonna grow old