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me, meet the real me
And my way of life
A dark past is my
Most valued possession
Hindsight is always 20-20
But looking back it's a bit fuzzy
Speak of assured destruction?
story, tell it to Reader's Digest!
Feeling paranoid
True enemy or false friend?
Anxiety's attacking me
And my air is getting thin
I'm in trouble for the things
I haven't got to yet
I'm chomping at the bit
And my are getting wet
Sweating bullets
me, it's me again
You can subdue, but tame me
It gives me a migraine headache
Thinking down to your level
Yeah, just on thinking it's my fault
And stay an inch or two outta kicking distance
has got to know
His limitations
claustrophobic
Like the walls are closing in
stains on my hands
And I don't know I've been
I'm in trouble for the things
I haven't got to yet
I'm sharpening the axe
And my palms are getting wet
Sweating bullets
Well, me, it's nice talking to myself
A credit to dementia
Some day you too will know my pain
And smile its black grin
If the war inside my head
Won't take a day off I'll be dead
My icy fingers your back
Here I come again
Feeling paranoid
True enemy or friend?
Anxiety's attacking me
And my air is thin
Once you me...
Now you've acquitted me...
Claiming validity...
For your stupidity...
I'm chomping at the bit
I'm sharpening the axe
Here I again
(Whoa)
Sweating bullets
And my way of life
A dark past is my
Most valued possession
Hindsight is always 20-20
But looking back it's a bit fuzzy
Speak of assured destruction?
story, tell it to Reader's Digest!
Feeling paranoid
True enemy or false friend?
Anxiety's attacking me
And my air is getting thin
I'm in trouble for the things
I haven't got to yet
I'm chomping at the bit
And my are getting wet
Sweating bullets
me, it's me again
You can subdue, but tame me
It gives me a migraine headache
Thinking down to your level
Yeah, just on thinking it's my fault
And stay an inch or two outta kicking distance
has got to know
His limitations
claustrophobic
Like the walls are closing in
stains on my hands
And I don't know I've been
I'm in trouble for the things
I haven't got to yet
I'm sharpening the axe
And my palms are getting wet
Sweating bullets
Well, me, it's nice talking to myself
A credit to dementia
Some day you too will know my pain
And smile its black grin
If the war inside my head
Won't take a day off I'll be dead
My icy fingers your back
Here I come again
Feeling paranoid
True enemy or friend?
Anxiety's attacking me
And my air is thin
Once you me...
Now you've acquitted me...
Claiming validity...
For your stupidity...
I'm chomping at the bit
I'm sharpening the axe
Here I again
(Whoa)
Sweating bullets
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