Boy Named Pseudonym

I am a boy named Pseudonym
Shaping myself
Aligning my will
To fill your every whim

I can be the perfect man
And I can be
Everything you need
If you just give me the chance

I can stand by you forever
I never have to leave this city
And I won’t even ask for pity
Though I may complain about the weather

I could be a doctor — sure
Dad, that’s what you always said
And when the stress would leave me dead
Well . . . I guess I never found that cure

But I could be the perfect father
Yet in a world so full of dark
I never really found the heart
And sorry, mom, I can’t be bothered

And when I look into the mirror
I see . . .
I see . . .
See that’s the problem

I’ve spent so long changing my face
I just don’t see myself
I’m stuck in hell
But I lost myself in purgatory

Where meter is lost
And rhyme is a lie
And I’ve reshaped myself
For the ten-thousandth time

And I’m so sorry for my wasted potential
And that I was never perfect
Because I know I’m meant to worship and study
To be a model son and brother

And doctor and athlete and artist
And would-be husband — I’m still so sorry
And I know that was told to never
Lie or cheat or steal

Or smoke or drink or cuss or — FUCK!
And I broke what semblance of meter I had left
So fuck it
Truth is I’d peel the flesh from my bone
If it meant I get to understand
Who it is I really am
And pray it’s not this miserable shit

Because I’m so damn scared
To make myself
I’d sell my soul at the low price of $19.99
Or three easy payments of $10 (you get a deal to pay up front)

So I don’t have to chase my dreams
I can let them fade away
Forget my ambitions and stay
And carefully re-stitch my seams

And I can fit your every whim
And leave myself
To rot in hell
‘Cause I’m a boy named Pseudonym


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