And I’m feeling rather bad,
I’ve fallen for a friend and she’s driving me mad.
And I’m feeling rather sick,
There’s a guy I don’t know and I want to steal his chick.
I know she isn’t his to steal but at the end of the day I know what I want to feel.
I know what I’m feeling and I know I’m not feeling you.
Yeah, there’s a girl that you might miss, but she lives in the past.
It was never gonna last.
She no longer exists and I feel poor, white, and cis.
I know it’s not my fault.
The things that I thought,
The times when we fought.
And here I am still afraid that there’s something that I lost,
If my life has gone astray.
But now I am so painfully aware
of everything that I say
and every shirt that I wear.
I think does that make me a prick?
To want an easy fuck?
To want an easy kiss?
I’m aware I’m an addict
Through the pain that I’ve caused
Through the pain I will inflict.
Through methadone romances, stuffy night club dances, I feel my chances slip away,
But who can blame me?
Who can stand up and say,
That they don’t sin like me, at least not everyday?
At the end of it all, we all want to feel loved if you’re bi, pan, straight, or gay.
And yes, there is something that we all missed
There is no one around who lives in perfect bliss.
As humans we complain, until it drives us insane,
“Why’s everyone everyone happier than me?
Am I too wired, is it the problems they can’t see?
Or maybe they don’t worry like I do?
These feelings that I feel tell me you feel them too?”
We all just proof that we’re alive
That our sex drive
doesn’t mean we’re depraved,
Just that we’re deprived
We don’t need anyone to tell us when we’re saved.
A Well Organised Asylum 