It's a crescent night under city lights
As I stumble home in a blurry sight
And when I get back, I already know
I'll reflect on time, and wonder where it goes
But if I keep this up
I've got the gist
How did I get here?
Has it come to this?
It's so hard to admit
I think I've latched onto an ugly habit
It feels so plastic but I don't wanna quit