Are You Serious? (softer version)

Woke up on a Saturday
Deaf in my right ear
I was dizzy and disoriented
Vertigo severe
All the doctors said the cause was just some mystery unknown
Then they charged me thirteen thousand
And the fuckers sent me home
I was told that there was no way to prevent what had occurred
But the randomness of everything it almost made it worse
Now lately, every crowded room feels like I'm drowning in the sound
Of incoherent conversations and my heartbeat as it pounds

I can't wake up from this dream
This madness my reality
I clench my fists and grind my teeth
As something breaks inside of me like
Are you serious?
Are you serious?
Are you serious?
Are you serious?

Too much and I wanna sedate
I wanna numb out, killin' the pain
Don't wanna talk about it
Nobody knows how to relate
I'm all alone and I'm up on a stage
Don't wanna bitch about it
Cause I know everyone's in a cage
I'm just a drop in a bucket of rage
And if you think about it
Too hard it'll fuck with your brain
It's not going away
It's not going away

I can't wake up from this dream
This madness my reality
I clench my fists and grind my teeth
As something breaks inside of me like
Are you serious?
Are you serious?
Are you serious?
Are you?

People tell me I'm resilient
But Lord knows I would love to show my feelings
I would love to explode onto the ceiling
Jackson Pollock, paint peeling
I would love to fuck off, say I'm dealing with some shit
Like I don't get that everybody's dealing with some shit
Like my struggle is unique, neat
White girl, dead alcoholic dad, scared to repeat
The cycle of vodka, nauseous, the awful process
Of top-of-the-class to no options, jobless
Of scramblin' thoughts 'til your head's an omelet
Of following Thomas, submit to chaos
With the privilege of middle-class fear
Plus internalized hate 'cause I'm queer
Plus I really wanna have that beer
I guess the enemy's the face in the mirror
But there's a tiny little spark in my heart
I blow on it to see if there's a fire to start
The highest power's the nth degree
That is both infinite and imaginary
So don't worry about God
She's smokin' cocaine at a bus stop
She's puttin' Rogaine on a bald spot
She's feelin' no shame in a crop top
She loves Gandhi and Pol Pot
She condones Zoloft
She giveth more when you scream "no más"
She told me once in the back of a tour bus
The highest highs might really be the low spots