Sweet couch with the spring sticking into my back
Room so cold, how am i supposed to relax
Blank stare on your face
Waiting for you to react
I'm feeling kind of cynical
Tap, tap so distracted by the sound of your pen
Tik, tok i'm just waiting for the hour to end
Everything is just a little out of focus
Keep waiting for my break through moment

But i'm so tired and vulnerble
Guess thats what i get for spilling my guts
Only out a hundered fifty bucks

Than i fired my therapist
She dug to deep
Than took her fee
No, i don't need psycoanalisys
I need a script
Anything to fix this broken brain

Starting to think i'm a little to self aware
I could do the same gig
Yellow pad and a chair
Look up every thirty seconds and pretend that is care
I'm feeling kind of cynical
Cause i already know the perfect questions
To uncover all that i'm suppressing
Maybe that's the reason that i keep you guessing
The subtle art of misdirection
Cause i don't want to give up control
Maybe i'm not better
Maybe not, but i can say i gave it a shot

Than i fired my therapist
She dug to deep
Than took her fee
No, i don't need psycoanalisys
I need a script
Anything to fix this broken brain
Anything to fix this broken brain

I wanna feel beter
Wanna feel beter
Wanna feel beter, beter
I wanna feel beter
Wanna feel beter
Wanna feel beter, beter
I wanna feel beter
Wanna feel beter
Wanna feel beter, beter

I fired my therapist
Had a good run
But i think we're done, done, done