How Am I Already Feeling Old

by Noise Pollution

I can feel my skin
hanging from my bones
slippin’ off the structure
dissolving all semblance of tone
I was told that I’d get old
still singing along to Ben Folds
I keep my room so fucking cold
that I can see my breath

And I don’t have it in me to explain
Why I prefer to play old video games
back in 1999
I traded Abra away for a Mr. Mime.

I’ve been reading comments
I’ve been doing it again
It’s hazardous to mental health
or ever wanting to have friends
I grew up on A Link to the Past
my SNES kicks your 360’s ass
and ignorance may be bliss
but yours, it gives me blisters

And I don’t have it in me to explain
why I prefer to play old video games
back in 1998
I watched in awe as Shiek revealed his face.

[It’s not, like, the deepest song I’ve ever written, I know, but whatever.]

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