Personal Jihad?

where is the decree i follow you, you follow me we all got forced around one another found on the side of another brother's mother this is the end if i may be so bold i'm telling you now what i've already told this is the basic end to the nigh in sight let the death of me be the death of us all a martyr? nah just someone with a decent head upon their shoulders i fight this holy war with myself i put my feelings upon the shelf then i let them gather dust then i sink, i swim, i do many things but none of them affect you so why would you bother with a stinking urchin like me? i fancy myself a lyricist i write a rhyme upon request if it's no good, then try again that's what this has come down to anyway not everything we put out is worthwhile so figure things out yourself for once because i am stuck around this verse chorus verse i go onstage without time to rehearse and wing it, believe it or not is it any good though? you decide mother mary comfort me oh wait, i already used that lifeline now i'm just a tiny thread dangling from this needle in your arm i am your addiction i am your heroin you inject me like sex but no pleasure comes from it oh well, who knows what we could have been anyway? i'm just barely even trying now bend over and give me a kiss even if it's just as listless as i may be who are you? i've nothing to say who are you in different... less desirable... social situations? someone else gulping down the nerves like pills with no water sweat beads around your forehead simply because your turn to speak is coming up i'm not getting any better at this really a martyr? nah just someone bored enough to take the fall