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