So you suck at life

I'm writing a song - it's not very good
The words and the chords are simple
And bound to be misunderstood
Everything seems so big and hard and small
And stupid and pointless and insecure
Like the world is a hospital and my life
Is a sickness and there's only one cure
And that is to leave, to go
Someplace else, someplace new
Where the breeze and the sky
Are more important than your wallet
And your dishes and your roommates
And your laundry and your comic book career
And your heart, and your heart

I get older but i don't get better
I get bigger but i don't get stronger
My head gets harder but i don't get smarter
I get a lot of things
But not a lot of choice, oh yeah

Went for a walk - 4 am
Everything looked perfect, nothing made sense
The world is my oyster - my mind is the shell
My heart is a prisoner - my mind is the cell
When you get so fucking lonely, it's hard to stay inspired
But hey forget it, i guess i'm just tired
I guess i'm just tired, i guess i'm just tired (etc)

(chorus)

I'm writing a song - it's not very good
I'm not what you'd call a poet, or a "songsmith"
I never learned. maybe i should
Or maybe i should leave, just go
Someplace else, someplace new
Where the air is not so still
And the rain is not so lovely
And the world is not so green
And my life is not so beautiful
Where would i go, where would i go?
When i've got it all, i've got it all
I've got it all, i've got it all (etc)
Everything but you