Mitski
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I don’t like my mind, I don’t like being left alone in a room
With all its opinions about the things that I’ve done
So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone
And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake

A whole cake, all for me
Ooh, aah

And then I get sick and throw up and there’s another memory that gets stuck
Inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk
And it may be a few years, but you can bet it’s there, waiting still
For me to be left alone in a room full of things that I’ve done

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A whole cake, so please don’t take
Take this job from me
A whole cake, so please don’t take
Take my job from me

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