Must be some kind of phase I'm going through

Your eyes look tired, I draw those lines

Scribbled over my face, what's wrong with you?

Where's the desire to shove and climb?

An incandescent path

You made it inky black

Tryna to make the best out of this

Blue heart

Blue heart

E flat-F-G-C-G-C

Me go through the shades

Prismatic

My mode is automatic

An incandescent path

Melting into black

Tryna to make the best out of this

Blue heart

Blue heart

Blue heart

Blue heart

Must be some kind of phase

I'm going through

I can't reach higher

I trace these lines

Wearing down on my face

What's wrong with you?

What's wrong with you?

What's wrong with you?