i'm not a lover, i'm not a best friend
what am i? maybe just a storybook end
i could be sad, could be happy, could be bittersweet
but you'll turn the last page after the villain's defeated
you won't rate me five stars, maybe three if it's fortunate
the bookshelf looks organized but really it's torturous
and that's the way it should be, when no-one really cares
i'd be the one to hurt you all, look out for crosshairs
of this loaded gun that never lacks bullets
you think i'm a nice person, a shame i can't fulfill it
am i really nice? i struggle with comforting phrases
i never know what to say, i'm stuck in fifteen mazes
of confusion, trying to find the best words but
any words that i can find will never make the cut
i can try to say them, but even so, i'm not nice when
if you met me elsewhere you'd think i'm with the ice men
ice monsters frozen solid, cold to your touch
you'll still like me then? trust me, that won't score much
if you hear what i say, i'll be sounding so different
you'd think i'm possessed, i know you'd lose interest
remove my faux act, find nothing positive about me
and you know, eventually, nothing is what you'll see.