Texty: Freak Kitchen. Broken Food.

Are you going to say "hi" to me?
What a waste of sympathy
IA'm stuck in my stupid misery
A self-centered son of a bitch...

You know, I used to wake up in a good mood most everyday
Now it shifts from grey to grey
IA'm an arm short, but thatA's ok
My head seems to be the problem

You canA't bring me down; IA'm already there
ThereA's nothing you can say; I no longer care
IA'm sorry, but you canA't harm me with that attitude
I was raised on broken food...

Is there anything I can do for you?
Ease your conscience for a minute or two?
You can try A'til your face turns blue

With this self-centered son of a bitch

You canA't bring me down; IA'm already there
ThereA's nothing you can say; I no longer care
IA'm sorry, but you canA't harm me with that attitude
IA've been raised on broken food

Are you going to say "hi" to me?
You know IA'd really like that
What I say and what I think might not be the same, you see...
I would really, really like that