It's so easy to say one thing and then do another
I guess I have a tendency to see the best in others
Each vice leads me just to overthink
But I can't seem to rewrite the script
The root of my own problems is me
If you cut me deep, I'd smile and sew myself a mend
If it's what it took to keep you as a friend
If we felt the vacancy, and you still pulled me close
I'd never loosen my hold, because I can't say "no"
I'm consciously neglecting my true intentions
Acknowledging my problems but never giving them my full attention
I'm just a dramatist
No stagehands
It's all just me
Orchestrating my own misery
Act one
Get my hopes up
Act two
Let my guard down
Become too self-aware
Cue anxiety
And watch me drown
Everyone makes it seem like this should be a quick fix
And I'm just the hand that folds my own self-detriment
Took what I thought was real and made a mask
Composed an act and cast myself as
A masochistic hypochondriac
I can't cope with each persisting disorder
I think a role reversal is in order
Tried changing my ways
But the ink dried the instant
I spelled them out
Take the pen from me
Blackout each trace of a doubt
I'm a dramatist
Who doesn't want to call the shots
I'm afraid that I'll inevitably write myself off