biting keeps your words at bay
tending to the sores that stay
happiness is just a gash away
when i open a familiar scar
pain goes shooting like a star
comfort hasn't failed to follow so far...
and you might say it's self-indulgent
you might say its self-destructive
but, you see, it's more productive
than if i were to be heathly
and pens and penknives take the blame
crane my neck and scratch my name
but the ugly marks
are worth the momentary gain...
when i drive a sharpened object in
choirs of angels seem to sing
hymns of hate in memorandum
and you might say it's self-indulgent
and you might say it's self-destructive
but, you see, it's more productive
than if i were to be happy
and sappy songs about sex and cheating
bland accounts of two lovers meeting
make me want to give mankind a beating
and you might say it's self-destructive
but, you see, i'd kick the bucket
sixty times before i'd kick the habit
and as the skin rips off i cherish the revolting thought
that even if i quit
there's not a chance in hell i'd stop
and anyone can see the signs
mittens in the summertime
thank you for your pity, you are too kind
and you might say its self-inflicted
but you see that's contradictive
why on earth would anyone practice self destruction?
and pain opinions are sitcom feeding
they dont know that their minds are teething
makes me want to give mankind a beating
i've tried bandages and sinking
i've tried gloves and even thinking
i've tried vaseline
i've tried everything
and no-one cares if your back is bleeding
they're concerned with their hair receding
looking back it was all maltreating
every thought that occurred misleading