I'm sick to death of my insides.
I'm sick of my nerves and pleasure points.
I'm sick of my lack of enzymes.
I'm sick of being what rusts your joints.
How can I come to save you from blistering away? You love the girl whose throat bleeds and never learned to stay.
I'm sick to death of my body.
I'm sick of my hair, lips, and face.
And when I beg you to fix me,
You know what you've gotta say.
Please don't call me your darling.
We both know I'm inflamed.
I drip with acid and it stings,
The cuts and scratches I made.
How can I come to save you from blistering away? You love the girl whose throat bleeds and never learned to stay.

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