Em               G
I want to brush my hair some more
        D                    C
But I’m scared it might fall out
  Em               G
I want to paint my face again
        D                      C
But I’m scared that they might shout
                Em      G
I dream of being pretty
                  D        C
More than I do of thriving
                      Em      G
And dream of being remembered
                  D      C
More than I do surviving
  Em                  G
I cross and cross and cross these trails
    D                  C
And cross re-cross old paths
Em                      G
Retread through all the footsteps
      D               C
Where once we were so sad
     Em        G
It’s nice to revisit
     D         C
It's nice to replant
    Em             G
But do I garden my trauma
         D                  C Em G D C
Like the spineless sycophant
   Em             G
In busy rooms all there for me
  D                   C
I still feel misunderstood
           Em
But it’s ungrateful brain
    G            D               C
And chosen pain, to say I feel unloved
                 Em
I might be often drama king
G                       D       C
I may mope and pout and grumble
                  Em           G
Even in improving circumstance
                       D         C
I still find myself disgruntled
  Em                      G
I dig and dig, dig out my brain
           D          C
With primordial soup spoon
    Em            G         D          C
Phantasmagoric memories are slowly detuned
    Em                 G       D            C
And endlessly I rewrite all my histories of you
  Em          G                   D               C
Unstable causality, breathes into tapestries untrue
    Em                    G           D               C
And soon unsure the guilt I feel just comes from my disposition
         Em              G        D             C
If these proppian dichotomies are just my own rendition
     Em              G           D               C
Some days I feel the hero, other days I feel the villain
   Em                    G        D              C     E G D C
Perhaps we both are mutually instigator and the victim
Em
I want to think so fickle
    E    D                   C
And live just aesthetic life
             Em
Because this self-analysis
        D                     C
It cuts through me like a knife
   Em                       G
It slices so mathematically
  D                   C
Into these perfect halves
        Em                Gm
And the binary of thinking
    D              C
Can tear my head apart