Dear Alex, could you tell me something please.
Oh Alex, how does it feel to be half ninjanese?
Dear Alex, you speak Belgian like a pro.
Oh Alex, there’s just somethin’ that I got to know.

‘Cause I've got somethin’ on my mind and I gotta spit it out,
but first I think I’ll just build some suspense.
And I wasn't sure at first, but I think I've got it figured out,
and now I’m pretty much positively convinced
so I thought I’d write a song, which is pretty clear by now.
I just thought I’d state the obvious.
There’s not much longer left to wait ‘til I’ll have to scream and shout
and maybe even let me question slip.

Dear Alex, girl I wrote this all for you.
Oh Alex, from 1 am ‘til almost 2.
Dear Alex, what are your plans for April 23rd?
Oh Alex, will you go to prom with me, a fellow yearbook nerd?
I really hope that you said yes because I already wrote this part…

Things started off wonderful, shiny, and bright.
Got a date. She showed up late, but she was radiatin’ light.
Dinner was great, dance was straight, then towards the night we turned our sights.
Senior prom: nothin’s wrong with chillin’, feelin’ a little right.
I filled up some liquid might in a water bottle from my car.
Evan Williams, so appealin’. My string bag minibar.
And of course I came equipped with a roller and papers.
We grabbed our shit, walked in, and hit the downstairs and backyard.
Under the stars, just chillin’, reminiscin’, and sittin’ around the fire.
Takin’ pictures and shit. Thinkin’ how we’d miss ‘em when summer had transpired.
Thinkin’ how we’d almost graduated, how we’re goin’ higher
‘til somethin’ pissed on our parade. On Easter I was tired
‘cause I had to stay up super late. The cops came through the door.
Didn't knock, just kinda came in. Hope that shit don’t hold up in court.
Little spiky-headed motha fucka, 23 acts 44.
Just lucky I didn't get fucked as hard as I could have. Coulda been worse.
When they came in, man, I stomped the J. They said it smelled like drugs,
but not a single soul would say. Forreal, my friends were on their thug shit.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 cops showed up.
When they started writin’ tickets for people without ID knew we all were fucked.
I haven’t yet been to court although that was many months ago.
Even though I paid a lawyer not sure how high to get my hopes,
and now I’m a repeat offender. Fuck my life. That’s how it goes.
Cops just tryna fuck you over. Keep it chill. It goes to show.