Of all the things I never claimed, I would say certainly
In the top five is a shred of authenticity
Nothing about me is original, or even real
Even I can't trust or believe in the things that I feel
Whatever deficit I carry, whatever I lack
Whatever it is inside me that makes me such a hack
A thousand chemicals and cliches tossed into a pile
Maybe my humours are unbalanced - too much yellow bile
The hardest part to think about
The thing that shakes me to my core
The things that will eventually kill me
Don't even, don't even fulfill me anymore