I've been lighting up the network Been bouncing off aerials Off satellites and radio waves And you're still in the darkroom The one where you fight your pains This place goes by a thousand names But I still prefer my own tristesse to yours I've been lighting up the network And extraterrestrials Are reading every word I write And you, you gotta do whatever lets you sleep You gotta do whatever lets you sleep You gotta find whats yours to keep You gotta do whatever lets you sleep In search of a war to tell your children about Fear kicked down the door and made itself at home You feel like youre empty clothing, a bodiless voice A nameless something, a disembodied noise And I would send my condolences But then art never comes from happiness And you wanna be great And I think you're searching for something purer than this And I think you're searching for that one thing with no shame in it And I think you're searching for something that does not exist You feel like youre empty clothing, a bodiless voice A nameless something, a disembodied noise And I would send my condolences But then art never comes from happiness And you wanna be great Oh, you've been spending a long time looking in Ain't creativity a scary thing, you think? Those hours in the darkness Let all the fires inside your chest Burn out and leave a desert where your heart is An island dispossessed And I still prefer my own tristesse to yours