| Sitting face to face with all the wreckage
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| With no perspective I just don’t get it
|
| Pulling limb from limb, feeling dissected
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| I’m on the fence of feeling calm and collected
|
| Another lie keeps running through my brain
|
| I can change, I can change, I can change
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| I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with me
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| I just don’t want to be a wannabe
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| Spending all my time self-diagnosing
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| While decomposing, usefully useless
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| Circumstances are holding me hostage
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| I wake up exhausted, at this point I’ve lost it
|
| Another lie keeps running through my brain
|
| I can change, I can change, I can change
|
| I can change, I can change
|
| I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with me
|
| I just don’t want to be a wannabe
|
| There’s nothing left to talk about
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| I’d rather you just block it out
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| Living with the paranoia
|
| Can’t control the void
|
| I’m doing alright
|
| I’m doing alright
|
| I’m still living with the paranoia
|
| Can’t control the void
|
| I’m doing alright
|
| Another lie keeps running through my brain
|
| I can change, I can change, I can change
|
| I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with me
|
| I just don’t want to be a wannabe
|
| A wannabe
|
| I just don’t want to be a wannabe |