| Song | The Blame Anxiety |
| Artist | Day at the Fair |
| Album | The Rocking Chair Years |
| 作曲 : Barker, Day At The Fair | |
| You can cut to the bone with, all my angry obsessions, | |
| All these chalky happy pills, and their consequences, | |
| Am I done with sleeping? | |
| Am I done with waking up? | |
| And I'm tired of thinking, | |
| That I've taken to much into my apologies, and lucid dreams, and fucked up thinking, | |
| I bleed inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I choke till it soaks into all these anxious fits, and agoraphobic dreams of happiness, | |
| You can cut to the fucking point, of how I'm so frustrated, | |
| As you strip away this fear, and you sand and paint it, | |
| Am I done with drinking? | |
| Am I done with waking up? | |
| And I'm tired of thinking, | |
| That I've taken to much into all I want to be, this ghost of me is far from leaving, | |
| I dig inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I choke till it soaks into all these anxious fits, and agoraphobic dreams of happiness, | |
| I feel claustrophobic thinking, | |
| That my skin is a prison in itself, | |
| You want to share my cell? | |
| I bleed inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I'll lose what I'll find, | |
| I bleed inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I'll lose what I'll find |
| zuò qǔ : Barker, Day At The Fair | |
| You can cut to the bone with, all my angry obsessions, | |
| All these chalky happy pills, and their consequences, | |
| Am I done with sleeping? | |
| Am I done with waking up? | |
| And I' m tired of thinking, | |
| That I' ve taken to much into my apologies, and lucid dreams, and fucked up thinking, | |
| I bleed inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I choke till it soaks into all these anxious fits, and agoraphobic dreams of happiness, | |
| You can cut to the fucking point, of how I' m so frustrated, | |
| As you strip away this fear, and you sand and paint it, | |
| Am I done with drinking? | |
| Am I done with waking up? | |
| And I' m tired of thinking, | |
| That I' ve taken to much into all I want to be, this ghost of me is far from leaving, | |
| I dig inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I choke till it soaks into all these anxious fits, and agoraphobic dreams of happiness, | |
| I feel claustrophobic thinking, | |
| That my skin is a prison in itself, | |
| You want to share my cell? | |
| I bleed inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I' ll lose what I' ll find, | |
| I bleed inside, | |
| I fear my life, | |
| I wake and I hide, | |
| I' ll lose what I' ll find |