I am a happy nihilist, no absolute truth does exist
When I decide to shake my fist, I only got myself to blame
Cause we're all players and life's the game
I only take what I need, I am so light on my feet
I will not stop or concede, I am not driven by greed
No moral compass for me, it's all just natural feelings
Existence has no meaning, there's no such thing as happy
But late at night when I sleep, I dream of more than I see
There's something burning in me, a driving need to be free,
Why do I sit here and think about the things that I need?
There's nothing left to believe, oh is it all just a dream?
I've taught this to myself, piled books up on the shelf
But it still hurts like hell to trust nobody else but me
I used to read everything, I used to need nothing
I put my money on me, I used to be something
Now I can't sleep, cause I'm not happy
I've taught this to myself, piled books up on the shelf
But it still hurts like hell to trust nobody else but me
Whoa oh oh
Why am I haunted by the metaphysical?
Is it a cosmic lie or is it literal?
The books I read that used to free my mind
Have made me more blind but the truth I'll find it
I was a happy nihilist
Now I'm wondering why I exist
I've taught this to myself, piled books up on the shelf
But it still hurts like hell to trust nobody else but me
When I decide to shake my fist, I only got myself to blame
Cause we're all players and life's the game
I only take what I need, I am so light on my feet
I will not stop or concede, I am not driven by greed
No moral compass for me, it's all just natural feelings
Existence has no meaning, there's no such thing as happy
But late at night when I sleep, I dream of more than I see
There's something burning in me, a driving need to be free,
Why do I sit here and think about the things that I need?
There's nothing left to believe, oh is it all just a dream?
I've taught this to myself, piled books up on the shelf
But it still hurts like hell to trust nobody else but me
I used to read everything, I used to need nothing
I put my money on me, I used to be something
Now I can't sleep, cause I'm not happy
I've taught this to myself, piled books up on the shelf
But it still hurts like hell to trust nobody else but me
Whoa oh oh
Why am I haunted by the metaphysical?
Is it a cosmic lie or is it literal?
The books I read that used to free my mind
Have made me more blind but the truth I'll find it
I was a happy nihilist
Now I'm wondering why I exist
I've taught this to myself, piled books up on the shelf
But it still hurts like hell to trust nobody else but me