there are three prospects that steal my attention   and one i think i'm in love with   but when it counts i always lose my voice   god forbid show any affection      i am overwhelmed by self judgement   familiar with disappointment   i'm an unlubricated machine   its either die or start coming clean.      i'm running forward with an awkward sense of direction   about forty digits separate me from connection      i've lost the need to impress    but not the fear of rejection   when i dont care enough   but would still like to get some.      there are three prospects that steal my attention   and one i wish i could talk to   but the hunters always come in first   because they can fake affection.   bitches love that!      i am overwhelmed by self judgement   familiar with disappointment   i'm an unlubricated machine   its either die or start coming clean.      we drove through streets with rolling green hills and asked what its like to be normal.   i crept along, lied through my teeth,   and i always felt so immoral.   we seemed so important   but we felt so dull   in a world to fit in,   neurosis:      CAST ME STILL!      chorus   chorus