Mr Wingus Bingus

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Espae

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Blinded by the glare of the cold streetlights
A car drives past, its window coated with ice
I ask if they have one buck, two maybe three
Please say you'll have some spare change for me
I did well in school so why am I here
Oh wait I know, it's cause I hold nothing dear
I get up in the morning only knowing one thing
I hate my life so existing's tiring
Why couldn't I be normal
Why do I work to be informal
Anything that seems to come easy to me
Is a years long grueling jamboree
Oh that sounds nice
Oh that sounds cool
Means I haven't wasted my life being a moronic tool
But I haven't heard that
Haven't heard it yet
So I keep going expecting that I'll get
The nectar of the gods, internet fame
Turned to death too early from pills and mind games
Why do I want this
Why does it scare me
The thought of someone hearing this is giving me anxiety
But I can't say that
I can't be true
The music's bout the people, it's not about you
So why don't you post yourself smiling again
Maybe if it does well you'll make some real friends
I'm drowning in a sea of unpolished gems
Whose only fault is that they didn't spend
5 million dollars on an ad campaign
So to cope all I do is make myself feel pain
By listening to better songs and bursting with shame
Do I like that artist? Am I feeling love
Or do I really hate them 'cause they feel so high above

Just draw a line
Just break my heart
Just say you're fine
Keep us apart
I feel so dumb
Why won't you come
My life's a joke
It's never done
I feel alone
I feel alone
I feel alone
But no one's home

No one appears in my dreams at night
So I spend my time writing storybook plights
None of this is real I've never dated anyone
In the saddest way possible, it seems like fun
My dreams consist of your lesser aspirations
'Cause it takes everything in me to have no reservations
If I was better at learning I'd paint the Cistine Chapel
But I'm not good at it so all I do is grapple
With my mind and the thought that I'm not good enough
Why does the song demo sound so rough
It must be perfect, but, then again
I am strongly imperfect and the spiral descends

No one around me wants to hear this
But I make music and it sounds like weasel piss
I pride myself on the time I spend
And not on too much else, that's the end
It's like a journal, only less weird
For a man in his 20s to hold dear
But no one gets sad when their journal flops
So who am I to judge those I put in a box
Promise that you'll tell me when you like my song
So I can change it so it feels more wrong
Kill your judgement kill your shame
In order to achieve some semblance of fame
Is this healthy? is this right
Just stop caring, shut up and write
It's not your friends who make you a star
It's the people who care who you aren't
Welcome to the circus, I'm a class act
I'm Mr Wingus Bingus, the main attract
Isn't the name funny?
Aren't I cute?
Now stream my new song or else I'll shoot

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