| I eat only sleep and air
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| And everyone thinks I’m dumb
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| But I’m smart because I’ve figured it out
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| I am slimmer than you are
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| And I am burning my skin off little by little
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| Until I reach bone and self
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| Until I get to where I am essential
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| Until I get to where I am
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| Food doesn’t tempt me anymore
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| Because I am so full of energy and sense
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| I can even pass by water now
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| Because I am living off the parts of me
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| That I don’t need anymore
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| I could feel the slow drips of pain before
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| Swirling inside where my lungs should have been
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| Now I’m clean inside
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| I threw out hundreds of things that I didn’t need anymore
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| All my dresses and bras
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| Stupid things like jeans and socks
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| Most days I float through the house naked
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| So I can see myself in the mirrors
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| I have hundreds of them everywhere
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| And they talk back to me all the time
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| They keep me true and pure
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| They make sure I’m still here
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| When I knew what I had to do
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| I took all my notebooks, all my manuscripts
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| And ate them page by page
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| So I could take my words with me
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| I can finally control my life and even death
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| And I will die slowly like steam escaping from a pipe
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| This is my greatest performance
|
| And all of the actresses who won my parts will say
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| How wonderful to let yourself go that mad
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| How wonderful to go on this kind of journey
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| And not care if you come back to tell the story
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| I scratch words on the walls now
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| So people will visit this museum and know
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| How someone like me ends up like this
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| (they'll say there is art in here somewhere)
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| Everything that comes out of me is sacred
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| Every tear, every cough, every piss
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| Everything that comes off of me is sacred
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| Every fingernail, every eyelash, every hair
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| Starvation is sacred and I scratch my bones
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| Against the windows at night
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| I light candles and feel myself evaporate
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| This body is a little church, a little temple
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| You can’t see me now because I’ve gone inside
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| My family doesn’t call anymore
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| My friends don’t call anymore
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| You can’t hurt me anymore
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| They can’t hurt me anymore
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| Only I can
|
| And that’s okay
|
| I don’t need them anymore
|
| I can live off of me
|
| I speak to me
|
| I dance with me
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| I eat me
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| When they find me, I’ll have a little smile on my face
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| And they’ll wrap me in a white cloth and lay me in the ground
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| And say they don’t understand
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| But I do
|
| I don’t hurt anymore
|
| I’m not lonely anymore
|
| I’m not sad I’m not pretty anymore
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| I made it through
|
| I feel so holy and clean when I stretch out on the floor and sing
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| Sometimes god comes in for a minute and says I’m doing fine, I’m almost there
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| Every day I get a little closer to vanishing
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| Some days I can’t stand up because the room moves under my feet
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| And I smile because I’m almost there
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| I’m almost an angel
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| One day when I am thin enough
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| I’ll go outside
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| Fluttering my hands so I can fly
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| And I will be so slight that I will pass through all of you
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| Silently
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| Like wind |