Sick and tired,
Nervous and weird,
High-strung and twisted.

I just need something to hold on to,
Someone to stem this endless teen-angst flow
of words I can't control.

You said that good's somewhere in everyone,
But my share seems so hard to find,
Because I'm selfish and weird, nervous and blind.

I'm watcfhing my days slip by, so slow,
Wasting away inside my empty shell,
It's so apparent I'm not well.

Please, give me something real to hold on to.
I've forgotten who I am,
and I don't know how to let anyone in.

Because I'm selfish and weird,
Nervous and blind.