Growing Up Is So Hard To Do

I woke up from what must've been one long dream,
One long, extensive, God damn dream,
And what do I see but my metamorphisized bedroom,
Transformed into cover only grown ups could appreciate.
Where are my friends? To that question, I don't know at all,
But something tells me that they're off at the races,
Smitten with the scents of the evil opposite sex.
And as to my body? Well, that too is a mystery,
For I find hair in places it never did grow before.
Am I sad? Yes I'm sad, for I've lost so much precious time,
And not only that, but innocense,
For I can no longer rely on being cute or on mommy and daddy now.


So, it's a moot point, I must say,
For definitely growing up is so hard to do.
I can never see myself with fleshy stilts for legs
And catching the eyes of girls who I once dreaded.
Some people say there's a silver lining to every cloud,
But until then, I'll play my Stradivarius indicative of a rain cloud,
Then I'll blubber up and go to bed.
What can I say to you, you analysts to the stars,
For I'm just not ready to grow up yet.
Growing up, indeed, is so hard to do,
So slow down and let me catch up,
For this ship is moving too fast.