Tomorrow I’ll turn 18
In front of the people who watched me grow into a wreck
They who have always mistaken my cigarette burns for mosquito bites,
They who have always mistaken my mosquito bites for cigarette burns
They who have always cared a little too much,
Loved a little too less

Tomorrow I’ll turn 18
Why does this inevitable coming stir such a fuss
They think i have time for a dress, a pair of shoes or for guests
I can’t even find time to fix my sad exhausted self
A part of me has lived enough to say
It shouldn’t have lived at all

Tomorrow I’ll turn 18
The plan is to hold a feast while faking a smile
The entire evening long, this is what they ask of me to do
I am tired and i wanna skip this age, perhaps skip this life
But then again, tomorrow is the much awaited day
Jesus f***, what really is there to celebrate?