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The office talk is a contest of who was more wild,

like they're trying to prove they weren't someone's child.

They brag about blackouts and nights in the jail,

but it sounds like a script, or something for sale.

I saw a kid yesterday, hiding his stash,

his eyes wide and panicked, expecting a crash.

I remember that plastic, the cola gone warm,

the nail polish smell of the drink in the dorm.

I wasn't a legend. I wasn't a star.

I was just shivering in the back of a car.

I wanted to fit in, to feel like a man,

but I ended up sick in a trash can.