Philip Labes - It's All Material
One minute to midnight two-thousand-and-nineI’m falling asleep at the party
I’m hanging nearby to this one girl I like
But she ends up kissing my buddy
It’s all material, such good material
I am a writer inside of a clown
It’s all material, such good material
When I get older I’ll write this all down
One minute to midnight, two-thousand-nineteen
You’re throwing up in the backseat
My friends say that you’re not treating me right
They don’t understand why I’m happy
It’s all material, such good material
My toxic relationship, just like on TV
It’s all material, such good material
Think of how great of a story we’ll be
Self describer, over-analyzer
A whole lot older a little bit wiser
You don't pick the sets, the events or survivors
You're not a god, you’re the punch up writer
Happy New Year, here’s a plague and some locusts
Still I try not to focus on what I can’t do
I sit in the sun and I write out a poem
About all the beauty in my little room
And it’s all materiel, such good material
All of this pain, I decide what it means
It’s all material, such good material
I can’t control what'll happen to me
I only decide what the story will be
Written by:
Philip Labes
Publisher:
Lyrics © Too Lost LLC
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