I'm a Goth

You're back in the room
We captured faces after 1 to 2 to 3 glasses of wine
Everyone looks happier
Except the guy on the left
He looks like he's ready to kill himself
Bashing my head against the rocks
Last night I was awake when I should have been asleep thinking about how much I couldn't stand you
I'm a goth I'm a goth I'm a goth
Look at my sad little face
I was lining up with the rest of the mugs
Waiting for my paltry hand out
But they only had chicken left
Constantly cantankerously cunting up the place
Like a dead fish floating in my brain
I was getting sick from the ups and down
Running my taps till they ran completely cold
I couldn't quite find my rhythm
I couldn't quite find my rhythm
I couldn't quite find my
Like the worst episode of Star Trek you ever saw
A hate filled bastard still hungry for more
I hate this shirt, it's too thin
I can't find the ifs and buts but when I do I'll send them in
I've been filling myself up on frangipane creams
If I had something to say I'd have said it by now
Did you want to see my prototype face?
Aloe vera, 'ello steve
I couldn't quite find my rhythm
I couldn't quite find my rhythm
I couldn't quite find
I don't care about the coffee shop poets
Whether they did or did not already know it
But I've been sold so many dodgy power tools
I'm with Shatner
Working out my instincts I suppose