In this witty mid-tempo confession, Kummer looks back at the chaotic glory of his twenties—the speeding cars, rooftop drinks, and thousand-bottle benders—only to realize that the party is quietly being replaced by Sonntagsbrunch, board-game nights, and talk of mortgage rates. He pokes fun at how harmless little changes (“early to bed so Saturday still feels long”) snowball into suburban barbecues, weddings, and strollers in the yard. With Max Raabe’s velvety chorus gliding above, the song paints the comedy of growing up: one minute you are too wild, the next you are “too old to die young.”
Now almost thirty, the narrator feels the first twinges of a quarter-life crisis—wondering if the “best phase” is already over, suspecting envy of friends with houses and kids, yet half-curious about joining them. The track balances nostalgia and acceptance, ultimately leaving us with a shrugging optimism: maybe trading clubs for comfort and chaos for calm will not be so bad after all. It is a clever anthem for anyone caught between youthful FOMO and the cozy pull of adulthood.