’m so tired of feeling useless
i’m so tired of being bored
and i’m so tired of seeing brake lights
and the closed sign on the door
i wish i could say i’m happy
in this skin that’s made to stretch
but it’s more elastic than the plastic
of the thoughts my mind thinks best
maybe i’m accustomed to this shithole of a world
i know there’s beauty left inside, but i can’t find it anymore
maybe i’ve gone cynical or maybe i’m a freak
but the future’s headed towards the past & things are looking bleak
something ate the optimist in me
they say there’s a silver lining
on every single cloud
but my senses are connected
and the thunder’s much too loud
i spend so much of my lifetime
trying to make the world suck less
but the doctor said that’s mania
and i’m cyclicly depressed
maybe it’s the ruckus in my twisted little mind
in which Jesus and my feminism can’t see eye to eye
apparently it’s much too much to want a little peace
when the monsters in your closet have forgotten how to sleep
something ate the optimist in me
something ate the optimist in me
i’ll raise my despondent hand and say what i believe
we’re hopeless when we’re stuck here with these shackles on our feet
and no, there was no growth of balls required to make me speak
because as far as genitalia go, your balls are pretty weak
something ate the optimist in me
something ate the optimist in me
something ate the optimist
this completely went over my head as a kid
(via ieatabortedfetuses)
