Every tiny twinge in my head Keeps me awake and drives me fucking mad Is the cigarette box, telling my fortune Hypochondria I want to be a star I don't want to bite the dust too soon I'm so fucking sick Under my skin Hypochondria I want to be a star I don't want to bite the dust too soon Every tiny twinge in my pants My balls get used to my own searching hands My google search bar is spitting my symptoms But my doctor didn't see me in years Hypochondria I want to be a star I don't want to bite the dust too soon