Holy! Holy! All the days Hunting to preserve our youthful haze We need a fix, but we can't be fixed Our medicine does not exist I can see it, in your eyes, on your skin, in how you dance I can see it, you don't look, we never touch Stranger! Stranger! To this life Whatever left me has turned off the lights Half-witted for trying to fight? We're not alright And you're still too fucking polite I'm feeling sick to my stomach, I'm feeling sick in my bones You don't like the sound of that tone? Have we not screamed enough to catch your eyes? We're not alone When I hate, when I hate, when I hate myself For the burden that I'll always be Second best by your definitions Well, I won't rest under those conditions "It's gonna be okay", they said with belittling grace But I need some space "It's gonna be okay", I wish I could trust your straight face But I need some space