Tie My Shoes

I'm a hyper-analytical bitch
With a psycho-symptomatic itch
For the finer things that life has to offer

I was born amidst the 'Frisco Fog
I grew up breathing the LA smog
All along I watched them lead us to slaughter

Well, my parents never taught me how to tie my shoes
And it's apparent that they didn't have the time to lose
And I'm aware that they had better things to do, it's true
But I can't help feeling on my own

Well, I never did have perfect pitch
But the music flowed when I flipped that switch
And the melodies were sweet but long & winding

Growing up, they all thought I was odd
Asked me, "how do you not believe in God?"
Told 'em, "how can I believe in such ill-divining?"

But my mother always taught me I should do my best
That mistakes don't matter as long as you pass the test
Well, my goal was only to leave her impressed, I guess
I got a little bit obsessed

The reason that I'm telling you
Is you were never gonna be the one to bring me down
(If I could help it)
And all the things you put me through
Were fun compared to what I'm doing now—

I'm a hyper-analytical bitch
With a psycho-symptomatic itch
For designer jeans & sweet satisfaction

Well, I thought I knew who I could trust
'Til I watched that truth turn into dust
Now Big Pharma brings bad karma and distraction

'Cause my father taught me it's better to close your mind
Keep the people that you "love" subtly undermined
Sing your own self-praise & always battle blind, you'll find
That the life you live's still predefined