Self-righteous bitch, thinking you can solve it,
crying in the ambulance, cause you agreed to call it.
Self-righteous prick, thinking you should solve it,
crying in the station, cause you’re not the centre of attention.

Don’t tell me to talk to you; the words I say you spit out to everybody.
“Oh come over for a tea, I’ve got a story, I’ll tell you all about Kashi.
Please stay, please stay. Oh! I made dinner too. Oh, please don’t go,
I need a hug. Can I have a hug, Can I have a hug?”

Self-righteous bitch, you can’t solve it,
It’s been me since I was six. You can’t solve it.
I swallowed a bottle, jumped into the water,
biked down a cliff; you can’t solve it.

You and I are not same cloth –I know, I know.
But I have a list of books. I will grow, I will grow.
I can get stronger; I will show, I will show.
And if you still don’t love me. I will go, I will go.

When I was six I put my stomach on the seat of a swing, I started rotating.
The sides were constricting my ribs. I couldn’t move – I didn’t want to.
I knew I had sinned, so that night in the shower,
twenty minutes of Our Father’s to the coldest water.

Dust revisited:[]

Yesterday, I kissed the closet door ten times.
And I couldn’t speak two words without a rhyme.
I felt like I was tripping; I was in the sky.
I couldn’t think of a thing that wasn’t alright.

But, that’s in the high.

Yesterday, I caught myself staring at the trees.
They looked so lovely flying there within the breeze.
I wanted to lie on the sidewalk and let them watch over me,
But I’m told in Japan, that’s a bit エッチ.

But, that’s in the high.
I want in the high.

Yesterday, I couldn’t breathe
(I know what else is new?)
and I started thinking,
“How many guys have held my ribs
as I tried to breathe again and again?”
I counted to five before I could count to three
and I thought, “something’s definitely missing in me…”

but I know, I know.