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