Blessed hedonist What's there to think about Stomach hits the couch Gracefully again Reading on the web Self-hatred at the bookends And it'd be a godsend If I ever outlive this Teenage malaise Buried in sheets for days Teenage malaise Burnt out for days Finally leaving the house Memorized your voicemail Far from disrepair Not the charred sheep I am Guess I'm turning back Tried to conquer the abyss But drowned myself in it You're the reflection in my backdrop, honey It'd be a godsend If I ever outlive this Teenage malaise Buried in sheets for days Teenage malaise Burnt out for days