You are playing a broken record,
The song is called Clueless.
Your eye is a magnifying glass,
Inspecting my life in close-up.
The song you play is scratchy,
The words jailed in my head.
I am the victim to this repetition,
Listening to this is an outrage.
But you think you’ve figured out my story,
You think you’ve got me solved,
You think you’ve read the fact sheet,
But you know nothing at all.
My world is still your mystery,
Your words are not law,
My crime is not your crime,
I will work it out on my own.