Stanky

So let it hit like it's supposed to babe
 You know the evening is a hell of a drug
 Treat the rhythm like its a secret babe
 I'm a try my best to try to cover it up
 It sounds like "turn out the lights, sit back, and float downstream"
 Takes you till 22 to understand what that even begins to mean
 And now you know
 Singin' I'm not going home
 I'm feeling it like I'm the only one
 No
 Singin' I'm not going home
 I wanna hear a little horse play a little trombone
 (Cue Calvin "Horse" Barthel Slaying a Demon with his Trombone)
 Out of the suburbs with a strange ambition
 To warp the definition of feeling alive
 Feeling like an amateur at a track meet
 Top speed barely enough to fall behind
 I consider this a game of distance
 And if that's the case it's just a matter of time
 I'll keep humming in the hopes of a megaphone
 Sharpening the edges of these dreams of mine
 And I'm a-sing
 I'm not going home
 Keep feeling it like I'm the only one
 Oh
 I'm not going home
 Somebody Please