Keeping Up lyrics

There's something soothing about a day job

That ruins your clothes

It's miserable and comforting to know

That there's a couch and weed at home

Waiting for me

I missed a lot on the road

I'mma fuck up when I'm home

I'll still be washing dishes when I'm 40 years old

My kidneys caked and braces on both my knees

Outside every inside joke

With my busted ears ringing

God knows I miss being at home

This was Mecca before the property value changed

Everywhere I loved became everything that I hate

Now there's no room for broke asses like me

Don't wanna lose track of my friends

The distance is fucked

It's not that I don't care, I'm just awful at keeping up

There's just no room in my head

Between the scrambled names and burned off piston rings

Outside every inside joke

With my busted ears ringing

God knows I miss being at home