Watsky – Lost lyrics

When I write some shit that's real
When I get a bunch of fans
When somebody understands me
When I win a bunch of Grammys
And Pitchfork writes an article that says that I don't suck
And I laugh off all the praise and claim that I don't give a fuck
But I print the page and frame it and I hang it on my wall
And linger at my name each time I pass it in the hall
And remind myself each time I wanna curl up in a ball that someone whose opinion mattered thought I barely sucked at all
And I throw myself a party and invite a bunch of homies
That'll show me just how many other lonely people know me
Then I'll finally be satisified and be convinced I made it
And I'll taper off my meds and get my license reinstated
I'll buy a truck and camper shell
And learn to play guitar
And every night I'll fuck the girl I love and sleep under the stars
And I'll live out in the country til I get the urge to move and start to feel like I got something left to prove

I'm lost
All out of answers
Exhausted
Homelands I've traveled across
Rolling I've gathered no moss
Only found that I'm lost

I know the fucking mantras
I've done the daily practice
I've tried restructuring my life
The fact is as this planet roams the galaxy rotating on its axis
I'm still anxious throwing random darts up at the atlas
As if I'll address my issues through the issue of my address
But I can't outlast the shadow of this vast expansive sadness
I'm lying on a mattress feeling tragic
Trying not to let my maturation bleed the world of magic
As if abracadabra could patch my spirit's fraying fabric
And I could go back to feeling all syrupy and ecstatic
I crave a blade that's cleaving through this gruesome havoc
Navigating past my weakest thoughts like weaving through some traffic
But I'm clueless
My habbits are the cruelist
And love is not some item I can write on my to do list
And I am not some miracle that walks this lucky ground
Heaven knows that it's the other way around

[Hook]