[Verse 1]

I wanna write a song like poetry

Modern writers just aren’t enough for me

A letter to the author shows the fear

Both myself and anyone else here

Resenting my family was a mistake

I study the law until my bills are paid

I study myself and it drives me insane

I cope with the stress by getting laid

[Chorus]

I woke up uncomfy now my family hate me

The mirror makes me sick and sickness seems like I’m lazy

My sister is reliablе until indoctrination makes her tired of my avid distrеss

I woke up all ugly from the body I’m bearing

I eat and hate and suffocate, the help can’t help staring

My sister wasn’t mean, she didn’t mean to seem uncaring

But I honestly couldn’t care less

[Verse 2]

I am tired of the image that my sinning is just written success

I am living proof that dying doesn’t mean the public care any less

My father stopped replying when my lovers discovered they didn’t make me impressed

I was stuck with separation as a man when my old man just up and left

Is it dramatic or pedantic to imply that I grew up fatherless?

I am not a bastard, I mustered the courage to write out my stress

The bug is not a symbol, it’s a symptom of the sickness I endured right and left

Writing less, it’s a test for the fast my father begged for

I fasted ‘til death, are you impressed?

And metaphor for this isn’t hidden in any of my burning pages

The metamorphosis isn’t a message it’s a story of my growing ages

And every orifice is a reminder of the blood I never seem to shed off

My father is the man, I’ll be damned, its just something it seems that I can’t get rid of