| I talk to girls that sings about asphyxiation
|
| Until their beer goes flat
|
| I talk to girls that brings their switchblades to the function
|
| And dye their buzzcuts black
|
| Shut your mouth and take your vitamins
|
| Bite your nails and sell your Ritalin
|
| I feel like the world is on my back
|
| Shut your mouth and take your vitamins
|
| Bite your nails and sell your Ritalin
|
| I feel like the world is on its back
|
| I’m just a kid, I
|
| Suffocate and slip, I
|
| Hate that we’re all sick
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| I’m just a kid, I
|
| Suffocate and slip, I
|
| Hate that we’re all sick (Yeah)
|
| I’m blowing bubbles in the faces of thugs
|
| I’m smoking licorice tobacco for lunch, yeah
|
| I’m still denying that I’m anxious as fuck
|
| And I’m lacking in trust and I think my art sucks (It sucks)
|
| I look inside my head with disgust
|
| I would say it to my mates, but they’re probably drunk
|
| So I listen to funk, I bend to the punch
|
| Then pretend that I’m fine when, really, I’m crushed
|
| Shut your mouth and take your vitamins
|
| Bite your nails and sell your Ritalin
|
| I feel like the world is on my back
|
| Shut your mouth and take your vitamins
|
| Bite your nails and sell your Ritalin
|
| I feel like the world is on its back
|
| I’m just a kid, I
|
| Suffocate and slip, I
|
| Hate that we’re all sick
|
| Yeah, yeah, yeah
|
| I’m just a kid, I
|
| Suffocate and slip, I
|
| Hate that we’re all sick
|
| Ya-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da
|
| Ya-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da
|
| Ya-da-da, da-da, da-da-dum
|
| Yeah |