I have this thing where I get older, but just never wiser
Midnights become my afternoons
When my depression works the graveyard shift
All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room
I should not be left to my own devices
They come with prices and vices
I end up in crisis
(Tale as old as time)
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day I'll watch as you're leaving
'Cause you got tired of my scheming
you are the normie. you are the empty head. you are the automaton. you are the mouth flapping around. it is out of you that someone else speaks. you are dispossessed of your solidity, stability, sincerity, let alone authenticity, whether you claim or disclaim it. you say that.
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