Every tiny twinge in my head
Keeps me awake and drives me f*cking mad
Is the cigarette box, telling my fortune
Hypochondria
I want to be a star
I don't want to bite the dust too soon
I'm so f*cking sick
Under my skin
Hypochondria
I want to be a star
I don't want to bite the dust too soon
Every tiny twinge in my pants
My balls get used to my own searching hands
My google search bar is spitting my symptoms
But my doctor didn't see me in years
Hypochondria
I want to be a star
I don't want to bite the dust too soon