Fresh New Hell

Some things are borrowed, some are blue
Who can I turn to?
Never knew I'd look so good on you
Should we kill the virus or let the virus kill us too?

We're in some kind of fresh new hell
No running water, but we're drowning in a well
Don't start with me, I'm not in the mood
We're one in the same in solitude

Do we just turn our cheeks?
Or try and turn the page?
So much more to seek
Than hollow words of praise
Not for the mild or meek
Trying to come of age

If you feel the need, I wanna feel it too
It's not what we've done, it's what we ought to do
Playing risk on Adderall
Shelter in place, a morning margin call

This world is mild and meek
Prone to fits of rage
Sometimes, the love we seek (oh, oh, oh)
Is dying on a stage
Flying blind over the scenery
Trying to come of age

We wrote some songs in quarantine
Mostly sad songs, the way things are and often seem
Playing around in a minor key
Just because you can see what it does to me

You like my posts on Instagram
You follow my stories, do you know who I am?

(Trying to come of age)