id be lying to myself
if i told you that i cared
about anything but myself
theres only me, myself, and i
living cant always be easy
i see only my point of view
why should i care?
nothing exists but me, myself, and i
and the never-ending fear
of the day that i will die
on the last good thoughts of my life
just be quiet, and dont say a word
youre not important enough for me to hear
especially because you are weak
without the hope of an end
life would become unendurable
im not saying this for you to hear
its for me, myself, and i
i cannot stop the clock
so someday im going to die
its a shame the genius will be wasted
of me, myself, and i