this sucks
I suck
at unpredictable emotions
these are the sad bastard conditions
and certainly not what I would seem
to assume to see me say
am I okay?

drawing on the floor
drawing in circles around the spots where you were
my memory is selective
I can't say I'm ever sure
I can't say my intentions are ever too pure
tracking your steps like a detective

I guess you could call it a problem
what goes on inside my head
a ring of constant questions
subtle hints at indiscretion
keeping quiet but losing my voice instead

(overlapping talking)

this sucks
I suck
at documented emotions
and self-diagnosed conditions
am I okay?

drawing on the floor
drawing in circles around the spots where you were
my memory is selective
I can't say I'm ever sure
I can't say my intentions are ever too pure
tracking your steps like a detective


Lyrics submitted by lxsdr

Their / They're / Therapy song meanings
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