It's not too late to change your life,
Tuck in your shirt and drop the knife.
I turned 25 yesterday,
Gifted a weight across my chest.
I haven't grown in any way,
But look at all that I have left.
I want to become a machine,
Present my feelings on a screen,
Operate so efficiently--
I'm sick of always breaking down.
Tied up in flesh, I'm never free--
The muscles that it takes to frown
Or make a sound.
Don't make a sound now.
Don't make a sound.
Don't make a sound.