It’s funny now we both live in Brooklyn
In the city more than a mile is too goddamn far
You’re in Greenpoint I’m in Bushwick
The L train is down and I can’t afford a car
Maybe it’s a quarter-life crisis
Maybe it’s you
Lately I don’t wanna be invited
To your pity party
In your well-lit room
Didn’t give enough to abandon
When you’ve got no lines to cross you’ve got no reason to run
Now I’m the one feeling empty-handed
I still love him but we still had our fun
Maybe it’s a quarter-life crisis
Maybe it’s me
Lately I don’t wanna be invited
To your pity party
You looked up and shook your head at
The ceiling when you should’ve looked at me
I reached out like an offered bandage
I can’t sit there and watch you bleed
If you want me to stay you’ve gotta say it before I leave
Maybe it’s a quarter-life crisis
But I think it’s you
Lately I don’t wanna be invited
To your pity party
In your well-lit room
Your pity party
In your three-piece suit
Your pity party
And the theme is blue
Your pity party
In your well-lit room