Verse 1:

Everybody tries to stand out

from the crowd,

and the stress of such a task

is a burden no one can carry.

Chorus:

Some may label me a cynic,

but I've realized the truth:

eclecticism is a vain attempt

at originality;

so I'll play the same old songs

you've heard a million fucking times

and when you're sick of me

you'll begin the search

for something new

Verse 2:

They're all doing what they can

to create flair

a misdirected difficulty

as they fail and then they see:

(Chorus)

Bridge:

Nothing new under the sun:

a phrase we've heard before.

The ultimate truth and doom for us

is spelled out in the way:

(Chorus)

So I'll play the same old songs

you've heard a million fucking times

and when you're sick of me

maybe you'll see:

the impossibility

of something new