My mother always told me about How my smile looks better with my teeth From six years on it sat at my bedside table For whatever occasion I might need A little pick me up, a little white mask to boost my self esteem I'm not afraid of death, but I'm sure as hell afraid of dying Is it traditional? Am I a fake? When I hold back a smile in attempt to change The existential doubt running through my brain If progress was measured by late nights and time That I spend away from my goddamn mind I guess you could say I'm doing alright My balance is the best it's ever been But I still find myself tripping up the stairs At least I'm not twisting, turning, tumbling down A few bruised ribs is all I can bear Got to rest up Take a few pills, get myself prepared This fleeting gain is nowhere near enough to get me there Is it traditional? Am I a fake? When I hold back a smile in attempt to change The existential doubt running through my brain If progress was measured by late nights and time That I spend away from my goddamn mind I guess you could say I'm doing alright Yeah, I'm doing alright