TV Stars from POST- by Jeff Rosenstock

I can’t play piano all that well.
Like, I’m fine,
I can get away with it
If I’m acting like I’m drunk on stage
and you’re shocked that I’m playing anything,
I’ll get away with it.
I’ll get away with it, ooh.

I can’t see you in another’s arms
Like, it’s cool,
I just can’t imagine it.
Would you fall asleep to different shows
Than the ones that we drift away with?
I couldn’t dream of it.
I couldn’t dream of it.

TV stars don’t care about who you are.
TV stars don’t care about who you are.

It’s like somebody traded out my skin
For something I could never feel good in
And told me “suck it up, get used to it,
breathe in, repeat it.”

It’s like somebody traded out my skin
For something I could never feel good in
And told me, “suck it up, get used to it.”
To breathe and repeat it
Instead of listening.

TV stars don’t care about who you are.
TV stars don’t care about who you are.
Don’t care about who.
Don’t care about who you are.

I can’t spend another night alone
‘Cause the echoes are too distracting
Getting high and diving into holes
‘Til I can’t even dream of sleeping
and getting away from it,
getting away from it,
ooh.

• Punk
• New York