come on lazy, off the couch
sitting in that sunday slouch
I promise you can eat more ice cream later
come on baby, brush your teeth
make yourself something to eat
you're such a masterful procrastinator

and you can spend your afternoons
getting high on the blues
you can black and white this world until you're wasted

at best you're sad, at worst depressed
trying to make something out of your loneliness
climbing up that scrap heap
and you wonder why you can't sleep

it's the terrible horrible story I tell myself
when the jury's out, the power's down and I'm by myself
the only constant, I'm my own anchor
when I'm lost at sea it gets louder and louder and louder and louder

it's the terrible horrible story I tell myself

did you know I'm an impostor, did you look real close
underneath I'm just a monster in her Sunday clothes
and all these city streets won't forgive me now
on this cold concrete, it's too late to turn around

it's the terrible horrible story I tell myself

and have I paid my debt in sadness yet
will this be the death of me
the punch I pack don't love me back
but god damn how well it knows me
when all roads lead you to alone
there's nothing left to see
do push and shove count as self love
when you're trying not to draw blood

well I froze myself so cold I couldn't feel at all
burrowing into this hole just to avoid the thaw
and what if and what if and what if and what if
what if I feel it
can you feel it now

terrible horrible