"Becoming the Last-Names" Lyrics

Here are the lyrics to one of my favorite songs slated for "In Case I Make It,".

If you leak this, everyone will have to wait for the album release date to see the rest of the lyrics.

Becoming the Last-Names

Don't take the following words as reverence for tradition.
I've learned to pick my battles by losing most I've fought.
The more mores subverted, the more I sense I'm missing.
And I'll always do it my way, even if that's just the same way I was taught.
I'll bring home the bread and you'll stay home and bake it.
Weeding out the garden where the milestones gather moss.
Crack a smile at my vows and whisper, "wow, can you believe we really made it?"
As I give up on dodging rice and fold my cape, I say "obviously not."

But I want to be just like my parents before I was born
Oh, can we be just like my parents?

I know you don't want kids, but think about a daughter.
We could name her Gwendolyn, like mom would've called me.
I'm not sure yet myself, but I learned from a good father.
I mean sure, they messed me up. But I think that's just the gig.
And maybe it's just some hormones that kick in in your last twenties.
But I have laid a lot of women, and now I'd like to just lay down.
And marriage always scared me, but I'd like to have a last love.
And love can last a pretty good long while. Yeah, I've seen it around.

Oh, can we be just like my parents when I was young?
Why can't we be just like my parents?

So tongue out of my cheek now, I'm done pulling faces.
Iconoclasm wanes. My cynicism tires.
But what do I know about forever? When so far I've been so fleeting?
Babe, my frontal lobe's done growing, this might just be how I'm wired.
But now we're kissing before brushing, smile with our whole faces.
If you want a hyphen last name I guess I don't mind the cadence.
I've seen home videos, I was there back in the 80's
And if I'm just them and they back then could do it, why can't I?

Just like my parents in due time
Imagine me, just like my parents. Yeah, right.

'Cause I've made more mistakes than simple empty moments
Each one as out of character as you know I tend to be
There'll be scalpers at the cemetery gates, with all my would-be widows weeping
I'd have forgotten all their names, so why should you remember me?

So if we grow old together, will you talk to my headstone?
That is, assuming that I die first (which is fair) and assuming I don't leave.
Close enough to forever, I guess, to prove what I hope.
I mean otherwise how am I to believe?