Paint

I keep a book of my thoughts
 In the front I take note when I'm feeling awful
 And in the back I write down
 When I feel confident or beautiful or happy
 I won't say which side is dominating now
 I'm Old Testament, all left out like an orphan
 Living in these tattered old rags
 I'm a beast defined in biblical proportions
 It's toxic just to breathe of my breath
 I'm dripping with paint
 Trying to change who I am
 But it still shows on my face
 And I'm trying to create a perfect person
 It doesn't run in my veins
 I keep the walls of my room
 Plastered with posters of bands I loved in high school
 And haven't listened to since
 And I don't have tattoos
 I haven't even drilled through my ears in the bathroom
 It's just too hard to commit
 I'm a testament to lack of self-approval
 All dressed up in black
 My heart doth pump with pain of its removal
 That beating was the best I ever had
 I'm dripping with paint
 Trying to change who I am
 But it still shows on my face
 And I'm trying to create a perfect person
 It doesn't run in my veins
 I'm starting to enjoy the silence
 To not hear music how I used to
 It's a constant struggle trying to write it
 When I've only lived vicariously through you
 I'm dripping with paint
 Trying to change who I am
 But it still shows on my face
 And I'm trying to create a perfect person
 It doesn't run in my veins
 In my veins, in my veins
 In my veins
 In my veins, in my veins
 In my veins