I took all my sick days, how'd I get in this place

Prolly resting bitch face lazy

Friday night I'm lifted, cooking in the kitchen

No one ever listens baby

I'm alone with Satan, broke up with my boyfriend

And I went off the deep end crazy

I'm still out in Brooklyn wiping off my lipstick

Hooking up with misfits, jaded

All this time, all this time

I've been telling everyone I'm fine

Somewhere in between

Ecstasy and suicide

I'm just so bad at concentrating

I think I need to be sedated

I call them out on all their fake shit

They say I'm great in moderation

Underneath the carpets sleeping with the roaches

Rotting on the inside glamour

My Mom be getting nauseous when she hear my lyrics

Frightened by the weirdness wholesome

And I know and I know

That I should be less honest with myself

Box up all the feelings, put 'em in a coffin

Or try to get some help

I'm just so bad at concentrating

I think I need to be sedated

I call them out on all their fake shit

They say I'm great in moderation

All this time, all this time

I've been telling everyone I'm fine

Somewhere in between

Ecstasy and suicide

All this time, all this time

I've been telling everyone I'm fine

Somewhere in between

Ecstasy and suicide

I'm just so bad at concentrating

I think I need to be sedated

I call them out on all their fake shit

They say I'm great in moderation