Pull the Chute

I think I know, I know why
But it’s better I don’t say
We all agree I don’t know a thing
We all perceive what we want it to be
She proclaims her freedom
I suspect she’s selling us something
Self-expression is suspect
I have an ego too
Have you met my mother?
She’s not good cooking, but boy, she can put a bad taste in mouth
I want class
I want things divine
But I live like a refugee
Petty taught me to be free
Learn to fly
Sometimes even I can get lucky
Say hello to your fans
At least they believe
You stumbled on something new
Forgive my assumption of your conspicuous consumption
Don’t want to be sold truth
Apologies for my pathology
Have you met my mother?
She’s not good cooking, but boy, she can put a bad taste in mouth
I want class
I want things divine
The dream got me spending freely
High hope gives me anxiety
Killing paranoid
Defeat self-hatred
Learn to be