Pressure

I know what to call it
Cuz I’m a little bit older
A pressure on the waistline around
A lover in the background
And any way you word it
I’ll never be alright

The callous of your old friends
A picture of the front yard
You’re praying for a weekend
Maybe I’m the one that’s wrong

Yesterday, like I’m not sorry?
I never said I meant it anyways

But it’s not about that