September 20, 2016

I'm... God Help Me... Old

These are the lyrics;

Baby pull me closer, in the backseat of your Rover, that I know you can't afford, bite that tattoo on your shoulder, pull the sheet right off the corner, of the mattress that you stole, from your roommate back in Boulder, we ain't ever getting older...

Now, if you haven't heard the song, you're thinking what the actual fuck right about now.

And if you have heard the song and you're singing along and then you stop to think about the lyrics, you're thinking what the actual fuck right about now.

Is this a bunch of trendy lingo my old ass doesn't get? 

Bite the tattoo? Is that what they're calling sex now days?

And who the hell has a mattress from the days when they still had a roommate? Not this bitch because, gross. 

We ain't ever getting older? Don't get me started on "ain't" and yes. You are.  Getting older. It's gonna happen. Trust an old white girl when she tells ya, you are. Promise. 

Now that I said all that, I kinda love that song. Makes me feel.... not so old. Also, my twelve year old showed me that song. Shit.


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