On my phone, I got a list Of food I ate and people I kissed And because of this I'm losing weight And batting my eyes like siren bait Just like a hate-watched series I catalog life dearly Dreary how-tos on half-assed self abuse Probably when I'm 22 Then I'll be doing something new Because I lose attention fast And I get bored right off the bat But I hate class, and I hate work And doing nothing's even worse But I still curse and complain every day If I thrive best in hate machines And shallow tabloid magazines And groups for memes, where everyone fights And tries to make straight white boys cry Then will I die still swallowing All sides of conflict, possibly I'm 3 percent non-hikikomori '97 speaks and now I'm there Fuzzy socks and shampooed hair Cyst acne bare, I'm eating healthy Watching Ina cook for Jeffery I'm kinda pissed If this is the real me At least I know who I kissed and what I eat Da-da-di-da, di-da-di-da Di-da-di-da, di-da-di-da-da Da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da Di-da-di-da, di-da-di-da-da Da-da-da-da, da-di-di-da Di-da da, da Da-da-da, di-da-di-da-da-da-da-da