How much wood could I chuck
If I gave a flying fuck about chucking bits of wood?
I wonder if I would, or would I just do the same
And say it's what I do when I don't do it everyday?
Just take the process as my name and now I feel ashamed
When I say it's what I am I am lying to your face!
I'd like to say I'm what I love
If I loved chucking wood, I don't think that I would chuck enough
Oh if peter piper picks a peck of pickled peppers, does peter pick them forever?
And does the pepper picking really define our peter piper?
Now would I still be a woodchuck
If like peter I picked peppers but I chucked wood when I could
And should I give a flying fuck
If you see a pepper picker or you see a woodchuck?
It'd be nice to be defined by what we love
But I don't think that we think that we're good enough
We're all imposters who've been riding on luck
Posturing until the day that we're eventually shown up
Pray tell the shadows of what we project to be affixed to us
A pessimistic pest exists amidst us
Face fears they find out your fakery
I think you are where you deserve to be
When definition wields weight over you
Know rational people feel like they're faking it too
