[Crywank]
I want to brush my hair some more
But I’m scared it might fall out
I want to paint my face again
But I’m scared that they might shout
I dream of being pretty more than I do of thriving
And dream of being remembered more than I do surviving

[Crywank & Guard Petal]
I cross and cross and cross these trails and cross re-cross old paths
Retread through all the footsteps where once we were so sad
It’s nice to revisit it's nice to replant
But do I garden my trauma, like the spineless sycophant

[Crywank]
In busy rooms all there for me, I still feel misunderstood
But it’s ungrateful brain, and chosen pain, to say I feel unloved
I might be often drama king, I may mope and pout and grumble
Even in improving circumstance I still find myself disgruntled

[Crywank & Guard Petal]
I dig and dig, dig out my brain with primordial soup spoon
Phantasmagoric memories are slowly detuned
And endlessly I rewrite all my histories of you
Unstable causality, breathes into tapestries untrue
And soon unsure the guilt I feel just comes from my disposition
If these proppian dichotomies are just my own rendition
Some days I feel the hero, other days I feel the villain
Perhaps we both are mutually instigator and the victim
[Crywank]
I want to think so fickle
And live just aesthetic life
Because this self-analysis
It cuts through me like a knife
It slices so mathematically
Into these perfect halves
And the binary of thinking
Can tear my head apart