Tiny  raindrops  salute  gravity
The  pavement  smells  like  the  taste  of  blood
I  need  to  get  out  of  here –even  the  trees  are  gilded
Smiles  ooze  of  depression  with  no  creative  perks
I ’ve  overstayed  my  welcome  in  this  life
And  it  seems  as  though  time  won ’t  tell  you  exactly  what  you ’d  like
I ’ve  given  up  on  waving  off  the  flies  that  have  blackened  my  mind -
My  sugarcoated  mind
Why  can ’t  I  whistle?And  why  can ’t  I  cry?
Why  can ’t  I  be  the  way  I  wish  I  liked?
I  guess  I  have  The  Weirds
Which  truth  is  true?And  which  real  is  real?
Why  must  we  whistle  to  what  we  cannot  feel?
I  guess  I  have  The  Weirds,oh  I  have  them  bad,and  it ’s  so  sad
Starring  contests  with  eggshell-tinted  walls
It ’s  all  that  seems  productive –you ’d  be  surprised
Procrastination  Nation  is  where  I ’ve  learned  to  live
Turn  on  the  tube,romanticized  until  you  can ’t  move
I ’ve  overstayed  my  welcome  in  this  life
And  it  seems  as  though  time  won ’t  tell  you  exactly  what  you ’d  like
I ’ve  given  up  on  waving  off  the  flies  that  have  blackened  my  mind -
My  sugarcoated  mind
Why  can ’t  I  whistle?And  why  can ’t  I  cry?
Why  can ’t  I  love  you  the  way  I  wish  I  liked?
I  guess  I  have  The  Weirds
Which  truth  is  true?And  which  real  is  real?
Why  must  we  whistle  to  what  we  cannot  feel?
I  guess  I  have  The  Weirds,oh  I  have  them  bad,and  it ’s  so  sad
Why  can ’t  I  whistle?And  why  can ’t  I  cry?
Why  can ’t  I  love  you  more  than  what  I ’d  like?
I  guess  I  have  The  Weirds,oh  I  have  them  bad,and  it ’s  so  sad
Prisoner  of  the  mind,trapped  within  the  confines
Of  self  expectation,of  obligation –
I  guess  I ’ll  be  just  fine