The Format

The Format - Dog Problems

Don't you dare
Speak for someone you don't know
They'll feel it in the back of their throat
We know I can't construct a poem
'Cause words, like girls, get bored and run
C'est la vie, I say "I've got so many better things"
I've got nothin', you should see me
I smoke myself to sleep

And blame postmodern things I can't relate
Like summer camp in coastal states
Like alcohol and coffee beans
Dance floors and magazines
I think it's safe to say I've only
Got myself to blame, but boys in
Swooping haircuts are bringing me down
Taking pictures of themselves
Oh

And so I
Walk the web in search of love
But always seem to end up stuck
I'm finding flaws in everyone
I've reached the point where all I want is
To sleep around in hopes that I will
Catch back up, we are
Parallel lines, we're running in circles
We're never meant to cross