(Yeah... another one of these.)
(Gotta put the face on, you know?)
(Showtime.)

Steppin' in the perimeter, I'm feelin' like a generator for the cynical, and every individual is lookin' for a miracle to get 'em through the minimal-effort conversation
And I'm the designated conversationalist, the catalyst, they're gatherin' just to get a little bit of the energy I'm manifestin'
They're pluggin' in their insecurities, lookin' for a bit of purity, but the purity is poison when you're givin' 'em a version of a person that you're rehearsin'
I'm a currency, they spend me on a validation spree, and currently, the currency is runnin' low, I'm in a deficit, you see
I'm calibratin' my cadence and fakin' a bit of the radiance, makin' 'em feel like they're the greatest, it's a dangerous game of appeasement
I'm a human utility, showin' my skill and ability to fill up the room with a positive current, a personal grid for the village, I give and I give 'til I'm pillaged.

And the laugh track's on, but the humor is gone
I'm the life of a party that's been going on too long
And my own light is flickering, I feel a brownout coming on.
(It's coming on...)

I'm your human power bank, your emotional supply
(Your emotional supply)
You plug into my soul until your own is flying high
(Yeah, 'til you're flying high)
Then you unplug and you're gone, you leave me on one percent
And I'm standin' in the corner, wonderin' where all my own charge went
So I'm goin' offline now, turnin' on the power-save
'Cause this social battery is headed for an early grave.
(It's an early grave.)

It's a biological, logical, psychological need to be the nexus, the one who protects the collective from any potential messes
I'm guessin' my trauma is teaching a lesson that bein' rejected is worse than the process of slow self-destruction, so what is the function of settin' a boundary?
I'm surrounded, astounded at how I'm allowin' the hounding, I'm grounded in nothin' but fear of the frownin' and sound of a person who's hurt that I couldn't provide 'em a jolt from the jump, so I give 'em the voltage
The terror of a negative reaction is a powerful distraction from the fact that my own battery is crackin' and lackin' the fundamental capacity for my own passion
I'm cashin' out all of my reserves for the nerves of a person who's searchin' for somethin' to say in a circle of strangers, I'm feelin' the dangers of bein' the savior for everyone's bad behavior.

The room is gettin' brighter, but my vision's gettin' dim
I'm at the bottom of the meter, on the final, fatal whim
And I gotta shut it down... before the light goes out for him.
(For me...)

'm your human power bank, your emotional supply
(Your emotional supply)
You plug into my soul until your own is flying high
(Yeah, 'til you're flying high)
Then you unplug and you're gone, you leave me on one percent
And I'm standin' in the corner, wonderin' where all my own charge went
So I'm goin' offline now, turnin' on the power-save
'Cause this social battery is headed for an early grave.
(It's an early grave.)

But who's the one that recharges the charger? Who plugs me in?
Where's the outlet for the man who's been the outlet for his friends?
See, my anxiety to please is a short-circuit in the wire
A self-destruct sequence fueled by my own damn desire
To be the light... but what's the use of bein' a sun
If you burn out by the morning and your giving is all done?
No. I'm findin' the off-switch, I'm cuttin' the cord
'Cause this power grid's a one-way street I just can't afford.