Lyrics:
When you’re younger, people tell you that when you grow up you’ll know more
but the older that I get the less I understand the world.
And I can hardly recognize people that I knew before.
It only took me two decades to find out who they really are
and who they’ve always been.
From the new angle where I stand,
I see those sides that make them human.
The ones you thought immortal
now are greying, now are frail.
The ones you went to for your answers
are just as lost and as confused.
A gale sweeps children off their feet and
tosses them into a sea of overwhelming reality–
those things they didn’t want to see.
And here they call that 20.
Like crossroads in the country,
the towering door in front of me.
We’re twenty. We’re twenty.
What do people our age do?
Are we all closet philosophers and record junkies too?
We’re twenty. We’re twenty.
Reusing our old coffee grinds cause we can’t afford fresh brew.
Though we say we’re grown men and women,
I think we all just want to fit in.
You have friends that get stupid
and some friends who are firm.
You try to step lively on the balance beam that grazes both their worlds.
You’re searching for your definition while abhorring the heard
and you’re conscious of the fact that you probably cost more than you’re worth.
Still, a Friday night is calling
And God gave you a paycheck.
Till one day it all hits you
the universe says, “Act your age”
And you’re thrown into an intersection that parts 50 ways.
Feet mesmerized and terrified to know your life will change
Cause the second that you pick a route is the second that you’ll say,
“Did I choose the right one?”
“In hindsight, will I be proud?”
But the only way to know is to travel it.
We’re twenty. We’re twenty.
What do people our age do?
Are we all closet philosophers and record junkies too?
We’re twenty. We’re twenty.
Reusing our old coffee grinds cause we can’t afford fresh brew.
Though we say we’re grown men and women,
I think we all just want to fit in.
Folks’ll ask you ‘bout your future, the obstacle you’ve only feigned
and you’re feelin’ yourself lying to ‘em just to keep ‘em entertained
With fingers crossed behind your back, it don’t feel good to talk like that
But who really expects a whippersnap’ to take advice from just any old hand?
From just anyone who passes
We don’t take words from the masses
Cause who knows where you’ll be for the next twenty years or more
what tragedies or ruts will come a-knocking at your door.
For now your most important jobs are trying to keep a level head
trying to pick up your own shovel,
and shake a lot of hands
Cause memories are milestones
even all the bad ones
And 20’s when you make ‘em.
We’re twenty. We’re twenty.
What do people our age do?
Are we all closet philosophers and record junkies too?
We’re twenty. We’re twenty.
Reusing our old coffee grinds cause we can’t afford fresh brew.
Though we say we’re grown men and women,
I think we all just want to fit in.
We’re twenty. We’re twenty.
What do people our age do?
Are we all closet philosophers and record junkies too?
Do we all re-use our coffee grinds cause we can’t afford fresh brew?
Can we all only stretch as far out as our debts allow us to?
Though we insist that we’ve got it together,
call ourselves grown men and women,
I think we all just want to fit in.