The Art of Whore

I was here before these hangers on
 And I'll still be here when you lose 'em
 We've seen it once, we've seen it all before
 Building confidences with razors
 Your swelling head blacks out the sun
 The more you speak, the more I go numb
 It goes on and on like a painful sitcom
 I'm sorry sir, but are you ready for your close-up?
 Your ego's fed, my face is red
 I gotta get out
 Forget so easily the way things used to be
 I gotta get out
 All this limelight, it's burning out your sights
 And I'm afraid you no longer see it
 Handed the life you want, you chose to respond
 With nothing but complaints
 That's not a life
 It's a fucking cliche
 Forget the people who have brought you here
 Forget the places you came from
 I recognize that the walls are closing in
 And I have never walked in your shoes, in your shoes
 Your swelling head blacks out the sun
 The more you speak, the more I go numb
 It goes on and on like a painful sitcom
 I'm sorry sir, but are you ready for your close-up?
 Your ego's fed, my face is red
 I gotta get out
 Forget so easily the way things used to be
 I gotta get out
 All this limelight, it's burning out your sights
 And I'm afraid you no longer see it
 Handed the life you want, you chose to respond
 With nothing but complaints
 That's not a life
 It's a fucking cliche
 Can't go back to the start
 Yeah, it hurts sometimes, yeah, it kinda breaks my heart
 Try to find something to say
 But the words don't fit, the words don't fit
 I stood there awkwardly
 While you let people act like you just parted the sea
 I wanna set it straight
 The words don't fit, the words don't fit
 I wonder if they ever will
 Can we get back where we began?
 Do I really even give a damn?
 Yeah, the words don't fit, the words don't fit
 I wonder if they ever will
 Can we get back where we began?
 Do I really even give a damn?