v1. My friends are reminiscing,
Telling things they've never done
Our appendages show innocence,
They're weighing down one by one

And we're not dim, just faded
We flicker, then we're vacant
This is the countdown before we burn out
They say, "It comes with age, kid"

v2. I'm getting reacquainted with someone I used to know,
Never liked, and I still don't
A perfect match of fingerprints
But I swear I'm not the culprit

And I'll deny these hands of mine
Until the burnt skin starts to shine
But there's warmth in them yet
If you need to light your next cigarette

Am I the only one that noticed
The last finger falls in a closed fist?
Well I've got a white-knuckled hold
On the time left until I'm fully grown

v3. My palms have hash marks
And some of theirs have scars
But we're not adding up the tallies,
'Cause we're at ease, bearing bare arms

And we're flesh, regret, and backbone,
Burnt retinas in kaleidoscopes
Not who we were when we were younger
Yet on the brink of monochrome