paper/boy (ie) - guerilla therapy lyrics
you only seem to speak
in a form of calculative data
i don’t wanna be human
personality’s built in strata
you take pleasure from the fall of a once revered hero
i take pleasure from the meat of your loins
she’s trying to crawl inside of me
it’s just a little session of guerilla therapy
you can keep on talking
to all the migraines in my head
i’ll just keep on sleeping
with a brand new therapist instead
therapy (help me!)
therapy, help me to talk
i glimpsed you gazing at the moon
imagining our maker
my poetry turns you on
my only begotten saviour
you fake pleasure in the photos that your boyfriend stole from you
i fake pleasure from the meat of your brain
i wanna be cool (x6)
i gotta be cool
i hate all this guerilla therapy
a cliched word to describe it would be crazy
they try to open my mind
where is my mind?
and they tell me to talk!
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