I run into old friends
Who look shiny and new,
They ask me ‘damn, girl,
What’s the matter with you?’

I say ‘It’s done to me,
It’s not something I do,
“You would cry too,
If it happened to you.”

It’s my brain, and
Though I really don’t want to,
I’ll go high, (I don’t wanna),
I’ll go low, (I don’t wanna).

Synaptic strain has me feeling so blue.
I’ll go high, (I don’t want to),
I’ll go low, (I don’t want to).

“You would cry too,
If it happened to you.”‘