Great

I've been lighting up the network
Been bouncing off aerials
Off satellites and radio waves
And you're still in the darkroom
The one where you fight your pains
This place goes by a thousand names

But I still prefer my own tristesse to yours

I've been lighting up the network
And extraterrestrials
Are reading every word I write
And you, you gotta do whatever lets you sleep
You gotta do whatever lets you sleep
You gotta find whats yours to keep
You gotta do whatever lets you sleep

In search of a war to tell your children about
Fear kicked down the door and made itself at home

You feel like youre empty clothing, a bodiless voice
A nameless something, a disembodied noise
And I would send my condolences
But then art never comes from happiness
And you wanna be great

And I think you're searching for something purer than this
And I think you're searching for that one thing with no shame in it
And I think you're searching for something that does not exist

You feel like youre empty clothing, a bodiless voice
A nameless something, a disembodied noise
And I would send my condolences
But then art never comes from happiness
And you wanna be great

Oh, you've been spending a long time looking in
Ain't creativity a scary thing, you think?

Those hours in the darkness
Let all the fires inside your chest
Burn out and leave a desert where your heart is
An island dispossessed

And I still prefer my own tristesse to yours