Channelling Brian Molko

I got high, took off my gloves
Never bothered sobering up
Found the key to my ribcage
And set my lungs to self-destruct

When I got low I broke my wrist
From lashing out with my bare fists
Punching myself in the head
Over and over again

It kind of muddled my clarity for the time
But it was hidden in the line you know where

Every song jives the same
Prophetic lines a parody
Of real life
How can I possibly avoid going insane
When I leave all the maths to my prosthetic brain

And I learned something sore today
Theres certain games I shouldn't play
My ego's delicately placed
On top of my nuerotic ways

When the pieces tumble down
I wallow in the dirty ground
Rely on my prosthetic brain
Over and over again

It's kind of funny
Kind of dumb
Kind of fine
It kind of hides between the lines and nowhere

Every song jives the same
Prophetic lines a parody
Of waist up
How can I possibly avoid going insane
When I leave all the maths to my prosthetic brain

Ooh
Do you doubt who you are
When your day falls apart?
'Cuz I do
Yeah, I do
It's how we fumbled and found each other in the dark
While we're constantly chasing our freedom to choose
Do you doubt who you are
When you're told to shut up and consumed
'Cuz I do
Sometimes I'm not convinced that I'm even present in the room