Cut it out   your self-inflicted pain is getting too routine   The crowds are catching on   to the self-inflicted song   Well, here we go again:   the art of acting weak   Fall in love to fail to boost your cd sales   and that cd sells   yeah what a hit   You've got to repeat it   you gotta sink to swim      First you don't, you don't succeed   you gotta recreate your misery   we all know art is hard   young artists have gotta starve   Try and fail and try again   the comforts of repetition   Keep churning out those hits   'til it's all the same old shit      Oh, a second verse   Well, color me fatigued   i'm hiding in the leaves in the cd jacket sleeves   Tired of entertaining some double-dipped meaning   a soft-serve analogy   Those drunken, angry slurs   in 31 flavors      Gotta sink, gotta sink, gotta sink to swim   immerse yourself in rejection   Regurgitate some sorry tale   about a boy who sells his love affairs   You gotta fake fake fake the pain   You better make make make it sting   You're gonna break break break a leg   when you get on stage   and they scream your name:   Oh cursive is so cool!      You gotta sink gotta sink gotta sink to swim   impersonate greater persons   'cause we all know art is hard   when we don't know who we are