I’m always tired
I’m always at least half asleep
Blemish and state, how
I don’t feel great now

I don’t hang out in her hair
I don’t wonder if she cares
I lay awake now
I entertain my plan

To one day, miraculously
Be talkative and likable
To wake up as someone else
Someone I know is inside of me
Just waiting to be put to use

By something much more sharp than us
They pry out every fucking piece
And still they’re coming around again
They're coming 'round, around again

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