I am at odds
With my head and my heart beat
If I listened to both
They would break down and crush me
So I deafened my ears
To their cries just like last time
Because torturing me
Is my favorite pastime
I wish I could stop this
I wish I knew how to stop this
Rather than digging a grave
For the bones in my closet
I just tuck them away
And pretend that I lost them
But I visit it often
Where no one can watch me
Because torturing me
Is my favorite hobby
I wish I could stop this
I wish I knew how to stop this
I probably could go
And speak to a head shrink
But I'd rather just stay home
And speak to a few drinks
Then wait for the snap
As the string on my hearts torn
Because torturing me
Is my favorite art form
I wish I could stop this
I wish I knew how to stop this
Instead of cleaning my wounds
I just watch as they fester
Then pick at the scabs
So that they can't get better
They'd probably heal
But I don't think before action
Because torturing me
Is my favorite passion
I wish I could stop this
I wish I knew how to stop this