The Boys Who Make the Music

I didn't come here to talk about the tragedy of you.
Placate your fragile ego and pretend that what you have to say is new.
Yes, we can see the way you love yourself, beneath the costume, lipstick, blood, warpaint.
And I can't pretend anymore that we are the same animal.
I'm simply done with this.
I walk away.

You can say you hate yourself so you can relate to the boys who make the music with the chemical imbalance, who control their latent anger and the urge to cut right through you, so that they can make the music just to fucking entertain you, so that you can hate yourself.

We all understand.
Yes, we all understand you.
It's not complicated.
We just can't stand you.

You say how could you be like this?
Why is this the way you are?
Did I ever lie to you?
No, I never lied to you.
You are the one who built this image, so impossible to be.
I never dreamed in all these years you would relate to me.

And you say you hate yourself so you can relate to the boys who make the music with the chemical imbalance, who control their latent anger by arranging notes together, but you've lost the will to hold back the urge to cut right through those that have made you hate yourself.

We all understand.
Yes, we all understand you.
It's not complicated.
We just can't stand you.

Tell me about how this song was made for you; like every little line I wrote and everything I ever had to do to still the demons... was somehow just a message made for you. But you're not crazy, no you tell me you're not crazy...

...and I believe you.
We all believe you.
Would we lie to you?
Would we lie to you?
Would we lie to you?
No, no, we understand.
We really do.
We really do.

We all understand.
Yes, we all understand you.
It's not complicated.
We just can't stand you.