I don't know if I can open up
I've been opened enough
I don't know if I can open up
I'm not a birthday present

I'm passive aggressive
The past is over
And now the passive seems so pathetic

Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?
Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?

I feel stoned and alone like a heretic
And I'm ready to meet my maker
I feel stoned and alone like a heretic
I'm ready to meet my maker

Lazarus got no dirt on me
Lazarus got no dirt on me
And I rise in every occasion
I'm the mephistopheles of Los Angeles

Don't know if I can open up
I've been opened too much
Double-crossed and glossed over in my pathos
Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?
Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?
I feel stoned and alone like a heretic
And I'm ready to meet my maker
I feel stoned and alone like a heretic
I'm ready to meet my maker

Lazarus got no dirt on me
Lazarus got no dirt on me
And I rise to every occasion
I'm the mephistopheles of Los Angeles
Los Angeles