Bobbing under the throbbing lights-
                     The droning in your ears
                     Expresses the dulling
                     Drone in your heart.
                     Your white face reflects
                     Bright colours in the night,

                     But you are black.
                     You are numb.
                     You're high on gloom.
                     Crashing, you come.
                     This is your art of Angst.

                     You say you address your pain,
                     But you really enjoy it.
                     You look like a clown
                     With a frown for all occasions.
                     How can I ever understand
                     Why you want to look insane-

                     Because you're blue?
                     You are blind.
                     You pop your pills
                     And lose your mind.
                     This is your art of Angst.

                     Your drum-machine pings and bangs.
                     It's as false as your sincerity.
                     The keyboards trip,
                     And your chains clang around you.
                     You put them there yourself and
                     Voice shrieks to amplify the pangs.

                     You're just white.
                     You try to find
                     A buzz of delight.
                     You wear clothes that bind.
                     This is your art of Angst.

                     They grip skin tight;
                     You lose control
                     Without a fight.
                     Pain takes toll.
                     This is your art of Angst.

                     You look a fright.
                     You lost your shame.
                     You lost your light.
                     You'll lose your name.
                     Is this your art of Angst?

                     Your black is white.
                     Ecstasy on your mind,
                     You fly, a kite:
                     You flock with your own kind.
                     Where is your art of Angst?

                     We bide our time;
                     You'll lose your might.
                     We'd let you see,
                     Yet you've no sight.
                     Is this our only thanks?

                     To find your freedom
                     Just take a bite.
                     Just pull the trigger.
                     Just say goodnight.
                     It'll be your masterpiece
                     In the art of Angst.