Verse
F#m A
I want to brush my hair some more
E D
But I’m scared it might fall out
F#m A
I want to paint my face again
E D
But I’m scared that they might shout
F#m A
I dream of being pretty
E D
More than I do of thriving
F#m A
And dream of being remembered
E D
More than I do surviving
F#m A
I cross and cross and cross these trails
E D
And cross re-cross old paths
F#m A
Retread through all the footsteps
E D
Where once we were so sad
F#m A
It’s nice to revisit
E D
It's nice to replant
F#m A
But do I garden my trauma
E D F#m A E D
Like the spineless sycophant
F#m A
In busy rooms all there for me
E D
I still feel misunderstood
F#m
But it’s ungrateful brain
A E D
And chosen pain, to say I feel unloved
F#m
I might be often drama king
A E D
I may mope and pout and grumble
F#m A
Even in improving circumstance
E D
I still find myself disgruntled
F#m A
I dig and dig, dig out my brain
E D
With primordial soup spoon
F#m A E D
Phantasmagoric memories are slowly detuned
F#m A E D
And endlessly I rewrite all my histories of you
F#m A E D
Unstable causality, breathes into tapestries untrue
F#m A E D
And soon unsure the guilt I feel just comes from my disposition
F#m A E D
If these proppian dichotomies are just my own rendition
F#m A E D
Some days I feel the hero, other days I feel the villain
F#m A E D F# A E D
Perhaps we both are mutually instigator and the victim
F#m
I want to think so fickle
F# E D
And live just aesthetic life
F#m
Because this self-analysis
E D
It cuts through me like a knife
F#m A
It slices so mathematically
E D
Into these perfect halves
F#m Am
And the binary of thinking
E D
Can tear my head apart