I think I might be a monster
I know that might sound a little crazy, but, uh
I think I might be a monster
In my black suit and black shoes
Standing over this black box looking at you
I think this might've made me a monster
Women tell us that we look handsome at funerals
Dressed in our black
Almost look too good in what we'd be buried in
Like we're waiting our turn to be on our back

I think I might be a monster
Because I don't feel nothing
Ain't a tear drop came yet, and ain't a tear drop coming
I keep finding these stitches around my arms and backside
From trying to pull myself together
Too fast too many times
And I think this time
I might've pulled myself together wrong or something
I keep trying to pull the seams out
In hopes I'll fall apart for you
But underneath all I find is blood-stained concrete
And flowers and pictures leaned against phone poles
And messages to ghosts written in bold sharp
And day-old candle wax on my sneakers
As I stand here, head down, eyes closed
Like I've done so many times before
Trying to think of things to make myself feel something
Like I used to
And death don't bother me like it should
Like it would