Cancel Couture - James Hart

Tell my why

Does everything I do feel like a lie?

Why are my objectives subject to a trial

Filled with a jury projecting denial

Of the crimes they themselves have committed

Time and time again?

There is no way

No god damn fucking way

You’ll ever hear me say

I’m sorry for what I’ve done

End of the day

We all end up buried, but

The biggest difference here

I’m happy to lie in this bed I’ve made

'Til it’s a grave

(Oh)

'Til it’s a grave

And you can bury yourself

If you’re expecting some answers this evening

Facts with some distorted meanings

And if you’re hoping that I’ll spare your feelings

Then I suggest your dumb ass best be leaving

I am nothing like what I’m seeming

But why speak my truth when no one will believe me

Creating my own storm is easy

Hard part is faking it, like, this shit ain’t breezy