It's my Jordan year
And I thought this shit would look good on me
But I just feel weird
And I still can't fly
Thought I'd be ahead, but I'm down by five
I'm all fight or flight
And I still can't fly
Everything looks good on paper
Displayed on the shelf
And nobody thinks they should save her
But she's doin' well
Three hundred sixty-five days later, I still haven't learned to calm down
But I blow candles out
My wish should be different by now
But tomorrow I turn twenty-three
And it feels like everyone hates me
So, how old do you have to be
To live so young and careless?
My wish is that I cared less
At twenty-three
The bags on my eyes
Well, they're not designer, but they're overpriced
I paid for with cryin' (cry, cry, cryin')
And every ex hits my phone
Like: Happy birthday, are you alone?
You tried to ruin twenty-two
So don't pretend that now we're cool
Everything looks good on paper
Displayed on the shelf
And nobody thinks they should save her
But she's doin' well
Three hundred sixty-five days later, I still haven't learned to calm down
But I blow candles out
My wish should be different by now
But tomorrow I turn twenty-three
And it feels like everyone hates me
So, how old do you have to be
To live so young and careless?
My wish is that I cared less
At twenty-three
It's my Jordan year
Well, they're not designer, but they're
Tomorrow I turn twenty-three
Everyone hates me
Happy birthday, happy birthday
I hope that I'll see twenty-four
I hope I'll understand me more
I hope my bed is off the floor
I hope that I can care less, but I'm afraid to care less
