I Don’t Have Friends I Have Habits

I don’t have friends I have habits
It’s really not hard to pretend
When all of my friends are erratic
Imagine how I look to them
I don’t think my dreams are elaborate
But I don’t think that they’d understand
I don’t want to seem melodramatic
Here is our list of demands:

We want everything necessarily for a change
As integrity mounts we’ve aversion to fame
I don’t want to elope but I can’t see my name
Be it crayon or LED lights all the same

I don’t have friends I have habits
It’s really quite easy to see
If all of my friends automatic
Then what does that say about me?
Is it really tough?
Have you had enough?
If you think it’s bad now, the ending is rough

(Listen, call me back.
I don’t know.
It doesn’t matter.
I never called you that.
If you go
Then nothing matters.
Let’s restart.
Let’s react.
Call me back.)