I’m not any good with all these people
It’s automatic, I talk with myself
I stand in society with all these people
I’m designed to talk with myself

I no longer posses the emotional drive
Required for a role in the community
I think of all of the qualifications
Subject to a place in humanity

I have very few in me anymore
Each fiber of my very being
Suggests some state of immortality
And with my thesis my reasons begin to bleed
I question my personality

I don’t belong here any fucking way
I don’t belong here any fucking way

Naughty insides channeled right at you
I admit my perversion stems from you
I lust for the beatings I once knew
I love myself for what you put me through

My head’s spinning I can’t find the fucking nice
My sickness is my fucking vice
My fucking vice
My sickness is my fucking vice

I had this coming all along
Repress, I won’t tell what I did wrong
Confess my ego’s mowing the lawn
Not depressed writing this codepedent song

My head’s spinning
I close my eyes and
Feel the blanket
Warm, fluid, subliminal
Penetrating fucking scam
Back the fuck up
You don’t know
Just who I am