When we were young we ate our fill.
But now it's picket faces, all the blades turned red.
I look like a dick when I wear a suit and don't I know.
God knows I tried.

Out the front door, down the step.
I could be more or less anyone I know.
You look like a dick when you wear a suit and you don't know.
God knows I tried.

But all these anchors get me down.
All these anchors get me down.
Man your angles bring me down,
So pack your shit and leave town.

Up and out with your Sunday best on,
Up and out with your Sunday best on,
Up and out with your Sunday best on,
Your Sunday best on.

One day I'll write something honest.
I'm scared I'll die before I ever even exist.
I wanna speak before I fall silent
And blow away.

You've got chips across your shoulders.
You've got school dirt on your hands and on your face.
There was a time I thought we knew each other,
And so I tried.

But all these anchors get me down.
All these anchors get me down.
Boy your angles bring me down,
So pack your shit and leave town.

Up and out with your Sunday best on,
Up and out with your Sunday best on,
Up and out with your Sunday best on,
That stupid fucking vest on.


But all these anchors get me down.
All these anchors get me down.
Man your angles bring me down,
So pack your shit and leave town.

Up and out with your Sunday best on,
Up and out with your Sunday best on,
Up and out with your Sunday best on,
That stupid fucking vest on.