It could be the house
Or the bed, or the couch
Or the weather
The keys on the counter
Or the clothes in the dryer
The pain in my back
When I start to get tired
Or something of the sort
It could be the hum of the AC
Or the sound of the washer
The time that I'm wasting
Or the yells from the neighbors
My sister's first baby
Or the smell of your perfume
The fact you stay with me
Five hours past curfew
But something feels different
And that's not a bad thing
I think that it's made me
Realize that I'm aging
And maybe I'm scared
But I'm happy and patient
And it's time to face it
I'm not a kid anymore
I'm not a kid anymore
I'm not a kid anymore
I'm not a kid anymore