I am not real.
I was probably the most honest person you can find.
But when it comes to my hardest moments, I hide.
I lie to others so they wouldn't get concerned.
I lie to others so I wouldn't get burnt.
And yes, I wanted to kill myself that night.
Yet I forgot about it because I believed in my own lie.
The person you know me as is not real.
She never existed, because I steal.
I steal an image of someone else and I make my own drawing.
Pretend it's me, even though guilt's gnawing.
It's pushing me forward towards the truth.
Yes I tried to kill myself goddamn it, how 'bout fucking you?
I am not real.
And that's the truth.
Everyone knows a hologram.
But they don't have proof.
That what I'm saying this time's not a lie.
I'm not real, I don't know if I'm even alive.
I
Am
Not
Real