Tom Yorke wrote a song about a guy with appalling self esteem and then didn’t sing it for years because it was a little too raw for him.  This is kind of what the song would be if the problem of one lonely guy’s unconfidence had metastacised through the medium of Jordan Petersen lectures and Joe Rogan podcasts until he turned into exactly what he thought he was.

Note: it is not autobiographical, which is why it took me years to finish, because just getting into that mindset is painful.

January 2025

When you were here before
I mainly looked you in the chest
You should have been flattered
You seemed unimpressed
You talk like a Ten though
I’d say you’re a Six
You don’t talk to me though
You’re not playing fair though

Like I’m a creep?
Or I’m a sleazeball?
Who the hell are you to assume?
I’m really a nice guy!

I don’t play any sports, I never go to the gym
Don’t have a perfect body, don’t want be like him
I want you to want me for what’s in my soul
But you want the fit boys, you only like shit boys

Like I’m a creep?
Or I’m a sleazeball?
Who the hell are you to assume?
I’m really a nice guy!
Oh-oh, oh-oh

She’s thinkin’ she’s a queen
She’s thinkin’
She reigns, reigns, reigns, reigns
Reigns

What is it makes you judge me, why are you like that
You’re so fuckin’ frigid, your rules are so rigid
Like I’m a creep?
Or I’m a sleazeball?
Who the hell are you to assume?
I’m really a nice guy!
I’m really a nice guy!