Does It Really Matter? Man, I wish my family was like tissues! Clinging to one another before we're plucked outta this box That we're trapped in But we're too busy taking each other for granted And taking advantage Of these screwed up situations we're placed in Plastered across billboards and windows Eyes peering into the soul I know this heart lies exposed As Watsky said, "Don't paint me like the good guy 'Cause everytime I write I get to choose the angle that you view me And select the nicest light" Who's to say I'm a victim? Maybe I'm one of them Maybe I was the first one to reach a pen
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