| If my senses won't come to me | |
| I better come to my senses | |
| But I can't | |
| I'm too scared of being scared | |
| Like saving cancer-mice from labs | |
| Or half-eaten flies from cobwebs | |
| No sense of reality | |
| Or of concequence | |
| Come come... | |
| Oh don't bother | |
| I'll just embrace myself | |
| And while | |
| I'm at it | |
| I'll just lift myself up by the hair | |
| I'm not here | |
| So you've all gathered here | |
| To knock some sense into me | |
| Go away, can't you see | |
| I'm busy Dying of fear of dying? - | |
| Imagine what the world would be like if everyone were to think like you | |
| Well, they don't so shut up | |
| Well I've got a candied heart | |
| But I'm afraid to use it | |
| So what more can | |
| I do Than entertain my demons | |
| In this comic tragedy called life |
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