I became accustomed to a kind of social servitude 
and no one, I mean no one, could accept what I had become 
Selfish, bitter, weak 
Enough to make you sick 
And lately, I've been feeling there are bits of life I'm stealing 
Get me home 

At times it seems I will not help 
but it's just that I must save myself 
from fear that blankets like mist 
on an optimist who insists 
it's the simple things that crush 
and I'm crying far too much 
so much so that I'm thinking my control on life is shrinking 

There's a light on in my head and I'm thinking what I said 
All the freedom in my brain, I'm alright now 
I'm just thinking what to say 
Sorry doesn't seem to wash 
when there's truths around that I have quashed 
and no one, I mean no one, can depress me more than I can 
So does that make me weak or should that make me sick? 
But lately I've been feeling that I'm gonna give up breathing 

There's a light on in my head and I'm thinking what I said 
All the fever in my brain, I'm alright now 
I can even take the pain 
There's a light on in my head and I'm thinking what I said 
All the fever in my brain, I'm alright now 
I can even take the pain