I'm diseased. [bad word] with melancholy and a deadbeat dad who never said sorry
I'm diseased, I'm diseased. The roots have poisoned the tree
So all I ask is that you take it easy on me

I've got a whole lot of questions that will never get answered
And a pair of slit wrists to match a heart filled with cancer
There's a [bad word] in my blood that's clawing to get out
But every now and again he escapes through my mouth

I wasn't worth your time. But really I'm fine
I've been like this my whole life
Wrist always pressed to the knife
I swear I'm okay, I know everybody dies
I just wish we could have said our hello's before we said our goodbyes

I'll keep singing this lullaby
And try my hardest not to curse your name with tears in my eyes
Because I swear that I'm fine
I'm fine
I can't miss what wasn't mine
You were never my dad, and really that's fine

livid existence
Where my thoughts are constricted
Happiness restricted from a person gone missing
That's a 10-57, and I'm a 10-56
So all I dream about is heaven, even though I'm sick
I'm a monster without a father
An embarrassment to my mother
So it's no wonder that I'm going under

Why don't you love your son?
Your pride and joy, I love you dad
Why don't you love your son?