This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
When I run into friends of mine I haven't seen in years
They give me the once over then their eyes well up with tears
Then they pronounce me "looking great", I haven't changed a bit
I flash 'em back a feeble smile; I know I look like shit
'Cause I saw myself this morning, phew, and I know of what I speak
I'm a human being, but I look like I reek
And a weaker bathroom lightbulb just might take care of it
'Cause the mirror shatters your illusions when you look like shit
Shit comes in different colours, and consistencies
I guess that I'm just aging like the finest wines and cheeses
The guy that's me, who's in my dreams, is twenty-five or six
I'm old enough to be his dad, how's that for parlour tricks?
Life's a job you're fired from, unless of course you quit
Gee, I wonder if that old blind guy knows that he looks like shit?
"Let's ask him!"
"'Scuse me? No, over here!"
Although I know it's natural, I still can't understand
Once I looked like a million bucks, now, more like two grand
We start out with a lot of time, but what happens to it?
Times flies when you fuck around and then you look like shit!
Oh, ain't it the truth, brothers and sisters?
Shit comes in different colours, and consistencies
"Shit's a gift we make", Freud said, "Here, take mine won't you please?"
Growing old ain't easy, it's a process so they say
We proceed to our grand finales, every single day
But dying doesn't worry me, I'm not bothered a bit
I just don't like the thought of lying there looking like shit!
They give me the once over then their eyes well up with tears
Then they pronounce me "looking great", I haven't changed a bit
I flash 'em back a feeble smile; I know I look like shit
'Cause I saw myself this morning, phew, and I know of what I speak
I'm a human being, but I look like I reek
And a weaker bathroom lightbulb just might take care of it
'Cause the mirror shatters your illusions when you look like shit
Shit comes in different colours, and consistencies
I guess that I'm just aging like the finest wines and cheeses
The guy that's me, who's in my dreams, is twenty-five or six
I'm old enough to be his dad, how's that for parlour tricks?
Life's a job you're fired from, unless of course you quit
Gee, I wonder if that old blind guy knows that he looks like shit?
"Let's ask him!"
"'Scuse me? No, over here!"
Although I know it's natural, I still can't understand
Once I looked like a million bucks, now, more like two grand
We start out with a lot of time, but what happens to it?
Times flies when you fuck around and then you look like shit!
Oh, ain't it the truth, brothers and sisters?
Shit comes in different colours, and consistencies
"Shit's a gift we make", Freud said, "Here, take mine won't you please?"
Growing old ain't easy, it's a process so they say
We proceed to our grand finales, every single day
But dying doesn't worry me, I'm not bothered a bit
I just don't like the thought of lying there looking like shit!
Lyrics submitted by Mellow_Harsher
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