There's a likely chance that if you're a girl I've met
I've imagined a life with you
I know that probably sounds obsessive
But that's just what I do
I am desperate, like a praying atheist
I need love, I need affection, and I hate myself for this
Get over yourself, I say under my breath
When I get annoyed by the thoughts in my head
I don't deserve to say I'm sad, I don't know what sadness is
I'm nothing more than complaints from a dumb spoilt kid
I crave love, I crave attention
And I hate myself for this
I'm embarra**ed by my depression
When I put things in perspective