How nice it must be to be me ... ... ... I think that I'm sick, do you have something for me? "Don't act like this." Well, a mask may help?. I think there's a hole in my chest, something that won't let me sleep. "That's not my fault." Well, a mask may help?. And the silence is vicious, its symptom is pain. Words are turning to stone, and my home's growing cold again. I know I'm a mess, I can tell from every scar I see. "Yes, you are a mess." Well, a mask may help. Could you be more careful? I think I'm starting to break. "This isn't the moment." Well, a mask may help. So I'll stitch up the edges, hide the bleeding underneath. Paint a pair of happy eyes, and a smile nice and sweet. Mommy, could you hold me? Just a moment, please. "I'm busy." Well, a mask will help. ... ... ... I give you the soul inside my chest, my innocence, the weight I never left. Answer me with the things you stole, 'cause you threw them away, "My love must be just for you". Then tell me, if you take them all from me, and I follow every order, what replaces what will be? So if weakness makes you restless, if my feelings make you leave, if asking for love is asking too much, Well, a mask will help.
