Dripping in adolescence,
Breaking ourselves to get a gist of what putting ourselves back together has the power to feel like,
Late nights spent making horrible decisions to wake up in the morning and recover what little energy we have left,

It is not me, it is you
It is not we, it is us

Surrounded by hot sweaty bodies collecting cold sweat in jars so we have something to hydrate our obsession with confidence with,
Feeding off positive energy to form some sort of understanding of what pessimism takes to the battlefield every day,
In every way, this is everything we tell ourselves not to get into, yet do anyway,

Giving ourselves to the wrongdoers to see how much of a tolerance we have built up,
Searching the cracks of innocent bodies trying to find the answer to all of the promises broken on us,
Coming up with excuses so we don't have to apologize for being the lesser man,
Ruining our shoes by walking on the mud of teenage heartbreak,
Driving as far away as possible and hoping that our problems won't catch up to us,

We are dangerous, but we wouldn't change a ******* thing
We are always late, but we wouldn't miss any of this for the world
Broken, but not recovering because we love the feeling of knowing we still have the strength to help ourselves if we have to,

We are finding space where there is none,
We are loud when it is all silent,
We are never ending where the ends meet,
Lost in the static of this electrifying atmosphere we call our youth,

Look how high we're jumping from

Not dying, but getting there,
We wouldn't change a thing,
We are loving every minute of it