You wake up thinking that things won't change in the morning, right?
You see the stars and moon as nothing but some boring light?
You go to bed and prepare for another war at night?
You never look in the mirror 'cause it's a horrid sight?
Oh sure, you might be born to fight, but it contorts the sign
That nothing's fine. A sight for the sorest eyes.
It's all, of course, a lie.
And I know that often you're thinking "I'll fight the force this time."
Only to come up empty. This fire's starting to scorch your mind.
So now you never sleep at night because you hate yourself.
You know that no medication could ever take the welts
Away. They claim to erase the hell
That plagues your brain. Some say you fell
From grace. The safest way to tell
Is the way you fake display yourself.
You want to believe that your happy.
You're seeming so sappy.
That means there are things that have happened.
You're screaming but keeping your passion
The only thing apparent. Gleam with the fashion.
Your knees out of action,
You remember when that sad song played and you sang along.
Now do my claims hold out accuracy or am I wrong?
So tell me...

I wake up thinking that things won't change in the morning, right.
I see the stars and moon as nothing but some boring light.
I go to bed and prepare for another war at night.
I never look in the mirror 'cause it's a horrid sight
Yeah sure, I might be born to fight, but it contorts the sign
That nothing's fine. A sight for the sorest eyes.
It's all, of course, a lie.
And you know that often I'm thinking "I'll fight the force this time."
Only to come up empty. This fire's starting to scorch my mind.
So now I never sleep at night because I hate myself.
I know that no medication could ever take the welts
Away. They claim to erase the hell
That plagues my brain. Some say I fell
From grace. The safest way to tell
Is the way I fake display myself.
I want to believe that I'm happy.
I'm seeming so sappy.
That means there are things that have happened.
I'm screaming but keeping your passion
The only thing apparent. Gleam with the fashion.
My knees out of action,
I remember when that sad song played and I sang along.
You're right, your words hold out accuracy or am I wrong?
Am I wrong for doing this?
Am I wrong for feeling this?
Am I wrong for being this?