Letra de Keeping Up

There's something soothing about a day job That ruins your clothes It's miserable and comforting to know That there's a couch and weed at home Waiting for me I missed a lot on the road I'ma fuck up when I'm home I'll still be washing dishes when I'm 40 years old My kidneys caked and braces on both my knees Outside every inside joke With my busted ears ringing God knows I miss being at home This was Mecca before the property value changed Everywhere I loved became everything that I hate Now there's no room for broke asses like me Don't wanna lose track of my friends The distance is fucked It's not that I don't care, I'm just awful at keeping up There's just no room in my head Between the scrambled names and burned off piston rings Outside every inside joke With my busted ears ringing God knows I miss being at home