I’ve Always Liked You

If your girlfriend jumped off buildings, would your life be more exciting?
If people told you you sucked, would you stop trying?
When you’re tied down to the bottom, don’t you get tired of drowning?

You want to cut these old strings with a thick, sharp ginzu.
But all you have is your mama’s pastry brush.
You want to break free of something,
So you’re painting for your life.

And if you took all the inventions that you’ve thought of since the second grade
And really tried to perfect them; yes, you really spent the time.
You might still end up as nothing,
But that’d be fine.

Of course you want to rile up things.
And see the imprint of your hands on the cement walkway.
Imagine people talking about you as you are long past the doorway.

And if you took all the times you said something you would never say.
And smiled when you weren’t happy.
And people said “what?” while holding their forehead
It would number in the thousands
But that’d be okay

Of course you want to see your name in lights, in print
And important documents.
Have people you’ve stared at from far away say:
“Can I join you? I’ve always liked you.”
I’ve always liked you. I’ve always liked you. I’ve always liked you.