Keep your feelings far from me.
I hear that ****'s contagious.
I'm not trying to catch your affection.
And I've got some serious objections
to this whole love sick diagnosis.

Doctor, Doctor. What's the deal?
How's my heart of steel?
Is it melting? Warping? Disintegrating?
Write me a script for a void of emotion,
give me a brew or a potion to cure this notion
that love exists and people aren't evil.

Pills for headaches, **** ups and ******.
Why not wannabe loners?

For the people who just wanna be dead inside again.

The ones who hate the feeling of feeling.
Emotions send them reeling.
I don't want to deal with healing.
I wanna die inside again and skip resurrection.

If emptiness is an infection I wanna sick forever.
I don't need a doctor, I need an emotional dissection.
Pick it apart and sew it up without fixing ****.
I wanna be dead again.