It's a funny kind of irony
That I'm being held back-by me
Countless people build me up
and I knock myself down

I'm alive, but I'm hardly living
opportunities I'm missing
crushes that I am not kissing
since this little voice is hissing

"something will go wrong no doubt"
"no one wants to ask you out"
"not good enough: your clothes, your hair"
"just stay at home, you're safer there"

I know this voice
I know her well
She *****, I tell her
"Go to Hell"