Who the fuck am I, really?
A glitch in the system
What a pretty face, walking mood swing
And designer, ladies
Woke up in someone else's life again
Didn't like the sheets
Didn't like the skin
I used to think I was a masterpiece
Now I'm not sure I'm even signed
A cutout collage of bad ideas
Held together by Wi-Fi and wine
Do I belong?
Sure, if envy counts
If being watched means being seen
If longing's just another shade of green
Baby, I'm home
(Oh)
(Ah)
The truth, I've got more questions than faith
I trust no heartbeat
Not even mine
Some days I swear I'm made of silk
Others, I'm just static in a foreign [?] lie
And maybe that's the whole performance
We aren't meant to know
We're meant to hunt, to flirt with the edge of who we are
To kiss the mirror and call it god
I don't need to find myself
I mean, he's a mess, but he's got style
He changes masks with each new mile, yeah
And every one of them is true