The Science Of Frustration

This is my complication. This is my last apology.

And should it fall upon deaf ears, then the black will take me.

These fingertips define me. This crooked mouth for chemistry.

Like a sickly child, I would be grateful… I'll be grateful now…

This one is mine. Remember? Just keep your hands to yourself.

Stay in your place and in good time, all the hunger passes.

Somewhere out on the Internet; cautious and cold… mechanical,

Keep a dirty word, I would be grateful… I'll be grateful now…

CHORUS:

So it goes on, with tragic precision.

So it goes on. It's the science of frustration.

So it goes on. The panic and the indecision…

So it goes on and on. It's the science of frustration.

Momma said this would be painless.

Momma said this would be painless.

Momma said that I would be grateful. Am I grateful now?

So it goes on.