Bad at being me
|
I sweat and shake profusely when I see
|
A girl I like
|
I'd rather ride a bike
|
I push it off on God
|
Expect him to solve everything and I sit right on my ass
|
As clouds and minutes pass
|
And I fade... away
|
I fade... away
|
|
Bad at making love
|
I think I've never made it quite at all
|
And I dress
|
Like a stupid stinking mess
|
I care what people think
|
I teeter on the brink
|
And I fall off
|
Hooked on drinks
|
And nasty cancer sticks
|
|
I'm bad at making friends
|
Alone in my apartment that I call my department
|
Cause it's a depressing apartment
|
The devil knows me well
|
He's guided me through several living hells
|
It's ironic that I'm becoming slightly thick
|
As I fade... away
|
I fade... away
|
|
Another in a change
|
A self important manic singer songwriter refrains
|
Another lonely Jew
|
Convinced the pen can battle all the guns they dry and chew
|
But it's only if you
|
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na na
|
Na na na na na
|
|
I'm bad at writing songs
|
And post progressive punk rock singalongs
|
They're not apps
|
To sell my plastic ass
|
What do they lack?
|
That they somehow relate to me
|
Then forget me in a year
|
Like a love once held so dear
|
And I fade... away
|
I fade... away
|
I fade... away
|
I fade... away
|
|
-----------------
|
Loathing
|
| Say Anything |
