You imagine they control you with their minds.
They make you wish you were dead.
They make you wish you were dead.
People get inside your heart,
carrying Don’t step on me! signs.
But they mess plenty with your head
carrying Don’t step on me! signs.
But they mess plenty with your head
eat your brains, that is, because
zombies must be fed.
But they wouldn’t treat you so unkind
if, for just one time, you could take dead
But they wouldn’t treat you so unkind
if, for just one time, you could take dead
aim at loving your own
self best—you’re the smart
person who invented their cruel games,
you know. People got inside your head,
person who invented their cruel games,
you know. People got inside your head,
so it became convenient for you
to load
those folks with everything your heart has to cry
about, and now you can’t wish them dead,
those folks with everything your heart has to cry
about, and now you can’t wish them dead,
because they’re providing the
daily bread
of all your pain and suffering—
cherished and endured inside your head.
Don’t you wish you were dead?
of all your pain and suffering—
cherished and endured inside your head.
Don’t you wish you were dead?
