Seems I’m obsessed with failure
I’ve been pretty great at upcoming, uncoping,
I like to live in my own dystopic,
asemantic, cryptic, world of ratures.

Every one of my melodies,
Feels like a rapture
From someone else’s memory,
And it goes without to say
I don’t like it anyway,
Just the work of an amateur,
Who thought it’s simple to write
Simple as spite,
I like it, I like it, I like…
Falling into the rabbit holes of seemingly everyone,
Cause I don’t feel really myself until it’s done.

It tells me to sing more and more.
My voice’s got nothing particular,
If it’s not tearing my ears apart.
Every day with the same words.
Like a rotten bouquet,
Does anyone even enjoy the smell ?

Everyone in my melodies,
Feels like an unemployed whiner,
Out of everyone else’s pity.
And it goes without a shame,
That’s what I do anyway,
Just the work of an amateur,
Who thought it’s simple to complain.
Simple nothing burger,
I like it, I like it, I like…
Looking at those shiver by their scrawny bones.
Cause I don’t feel really myself until it’s done.

I’m undone and it’s gone
I’m undone and it’s gone
Give it up now, or might regret later
I’m undone and it’s gone
I’m undone and it’s gone
Give it up now, better never than later

Fight or run away,
I always take the latter
Just stay and watch it play
”Mamma, mamma, think I broke the ladder”
You know how it ends anyway.
I like it, I like it, I like…
You screaming "it’s not over"
Cause it’s fun and I want to say :
Well, if I live to see the day…

You’re undone and it’s gone
You’re undone and it’s gone
You’re undone and it’s gone…

You don’t like it anyway.