I walk down to my theater marquee The one on second street, showing some weird movie We got a little high and a bit too judgmental And on the L the people look so beaten up All their cell phone lights, they're drying out my eyes Underneath my theater marquee Slouched posture, yeah, we could be anything And with Wednesday morning axes in my head I get my relief down at my theater marquee I'm getting caught up in passing conversations Of teenage ideologies of vodka mixed with gaterade If you think too heavy you'll never get drunk You're just gonna get yourself a little too fucked up With a mind that's racing and jaw that's wired shut She says "it looks like you lost" I said "no" "But I'm not winning, I'm barely breaking even"