[Verse 1] Hello, my name is Elyse, and these are the ways I've answered the question, How are you? Some days... My flesh feels like the right size for my body and all of my organs. Me and my anxiety are doing parallel play. I would like to hold hands with a nap. [Pre-Chorus] There's someone in this room who's shaped like me— they're just doing a terrible impression. [Chorus] How are you today? Joy is rearranging all the furniture inside my head. She's terrible at interior design... but I'm glad she came. How are you today? Some feelings don't have names. So we borrow the language of impossible things. [Verse 2] I'm a puddle inside a people suit. The air around my face feels carbonated. Today kissed me on the forehead. If I were soup... I'd be gazpacho. [Bridge] My mind is a snow globe. I'm a plant that hasn't been watered for weeks— photosynthesizing out of pure spite. Should you need me... I'll be hovering three feet to the left of reality. [Chorus] How are you today? I'm not spiraling... Today kissed me on the forehead. If I were soup... I'd be gazpacho. How are you today? I'm not spiraling... just rotating like a Costco rotisserie chicken that's almost done. [Bridge] My thoughts are a slippery cliff— and I'm wearing socks with no grip. My mind is a snow globe. I'm a plant that hasn't been watered for weeks— photosynthesizing out of pure spite. Should you need me... I'll be hovering three feet to the left of reality. [Final Chorus] How are you today? I'm not spiraling... just rotating like a Costco rotisserie chicken that's almost done. My thoughts are a slippery cliff— and I'm wearing socks with no grip. How are you today? I'm collapsing inward like a dying star... No one notices... until the light stops arriving. [Outro] How are you today? Tell me something true. Borrow one if you need to. “Fine”... is a terrible waste of a perfectly good metaphor.
