Hypochondriac (Galaxy Version)

[Verse] She scours WebMD searching for answers. The lady at the corner store reads the horoscopes: folds of the daily news already yellow, ink fading [Chorus] Is it the shape of the stars Or is it serotonin? Either way it's not on me Surely it was meant to be, Yes, I'd rather not be free Free -eee -eee Mmmm mmm mmm mmm [Verse] Who is this lady all alone? Astrology in the corner store? She imagines all that, you know: Some back pocket, couch crack Cul-de-sac of the universe, Where it must be so-o-o-o-o-o. Forgotten in the wide open dark. [Chorus] Is it the shape of the stars Or is it serotonin? Either way it's not on me Surely it was meant to be, Yes, I'd rather not be free Free -eee -eee [Musical interlude] oooo ooo oo oo o [RAP Bridge] She wishes for a fever, honestly Some concrete calamity Any abnormality. Where's her title, "Disorder"? Her token imbalance: Too many? Too few? Either-or , you know would do— Oh if only, if only To acquit her of herself. [Musical interlude] [Shout] Yes, I'd rather not be free Free -eee -eee [Verse] Symptoms she latches onto: all her lucky lotto numbers— her golden ticket out. [Musical interlude] [Interlude] We have a winner, winner winner [musical interlude] [Melancholy whisper] Is it serotonin Is it the shape of the stars? (Or is it me?)