Go back to the old crap
To the things you tell yourself you've gotten through
But it's just been a week of
Desperately trying not to sweat off the glue
'Cause the body wants to do things
That the body wants to do
It's a shell coated in candy
For the ground that waits for you
Rip your friends off, write a new song
Call it "Shame," and claim its indelible truths
Play the victim, be a shithead
Throw the blame at anyone coming for you
'Cause the brain's gonna do things
That the brain's gonna do
I'm the worst kind of person
And I'm still in love with you
How's it animosity can just cut right through the fog
Of a pixelated memory that you figured was long gone?
And it shapeshifts into guilt that corners you into rights and wrongs
'Cause you told yourself you're the kind of person who knows how to move on
And the only way to trick yourself into not feeling insane
Are the negative impulses that you struggle to restrain
You know that nothing's real, but you sink your hooks into mistakes anyway
And you're paralyzed by the "how's" and "why's," because people never change
You can call it "angst," but I ain't seen proof that the world ain't fucked, and we ain't just doomed to the truth
So sing along, "Ba, ba, ba-ba-ba, ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba, ba-ba-ba
Ba, ba, ba-ba-ba, ba
Ba-ba-ba, ba ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba
'Cause I'm still gonna do all of the things I wanna do
But the truth at the moment is I'm tired of the truth
Yeah, I'm tired of the truth
Yeah, I'm tired and I'm through