Testo Detached

Sitting in the dining room, surrounded by all these fools
Laughing along and putting on, the greatest show they've ever known
But I can't take it anymore, struggling hard to endure
Will this feeling ever subside cause I'm dying inside

Maybe they all feel the same
Maybe I'm just like them
Maybe they're fuck ups just like me Or maybe it might just only be me

Turn it off and shut them out, don't know what they're all about
I like to be alone, left to ponder on my own
They're only faces to me, part of a picture gallery
For a crowd is not company, at least not the one that I need