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The Artist In Me
SEVER
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Why can't I sleep?
Why don't I like anything anymore?
Where is my trust?
Why don't I fall in love? (Why don't I fall in love?)
Why can't I see through the tons of this fucking insanity
They pour onto me every day?
Why can't you stop?
Why can't you be a fucking human for one fucking second?
Maybe I'm just getting old
And maybe I'm just bitter and sick of this tragedy (oh)
Of this tragedy (oh)
And maybe this is not my fault
Maybe they're killing the artist in me
Deliberately
I know you won't listen
You are so obsessed with seeing your corpse in the mirror
You're standing among
Millions of meaningless victims of their own pride
If only I could shut up and close my eyes
To thะต atrocities in my fucking front yard (yard)
Maybe I'm just getting old
And maybะต I'm just bitter and sick of this tragedy (oh)
Of this tragedy (oh)
And maybe this is not my fault
Maybe they're killing the artist in me
Deliberately
There is blood on your hands
You made me like this, and now you despise me
You made me like this, and now you despise me
Now I can't sleep, I'm a threat
And over and over again and again in my head
Your voice is telling me I'm insane
Maybe I'm just getting old
And maybe I'm just bitter and sick of this tragedy (oh)
Of this tragedy (oh)
And maybe this is not my fault
Maybe they're killing the artist in me
They're killing the artist in me
They're killing the artist in me
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