"Fired My Therapist" lyrics

Suede couch with the springs digging into my back
Room so cold, how am I supposed to relax?
Blank stare on your face, wait for you to react
I'm feeling kinda cynical

Tap, tap, so distracted by the sound of your pen
Tick-tock, I'm just waiting for the hour to end
Everything's just a little out of focus
Keep waiting for my breakthrough moment

But I'm so tired and vulnerable
Guess that's what I get for spilling my guts
Only out a hundred fifty bucks, then

I fired my therapist
She dug too deep
Then took her fee
No, I don't need psychoanalysis
I need a script
Anything to fix this broken brain

Starting to think I'm a little too self-aware
I could do the same gig, yellow pad and a chair
Look up every thirty seconds and pretend that I care
I'm feeling kinda cynical

'Cause I already know the perfect questions
To uncover all that I'm suppressing
Maybe that's the reason that I keep you guessing
The subtle art of misdirection

'Cause I don't wanna give up control
Maybe I'm all better, maybe not
But I can say I gave it a shot, then

I fired my therapist
She dug too deep
Then took her fee
No, I don't need psychoanalysis
I need a script
Anything to fix this broken brain

Anything to fix this broken brain

I wanna feel better
Wanna feel better
I wanna feel better
Better

I wanna feel better
Wanna feel better
Wanna feel better
Better

I wanna feel better
Wanna feel better
Wanna feel better
Better

I fired my therapist
Had a good run
But I think we're done, done, done