The Voices In My Head

Why do I think what I do every day?
Why should I bother? Can anyone say?

I ask about all of these things all the while
To be an annoyance is kind of my style

I can't help myself, some things make me wonder
Sometimes I feel stupid, a little bit blonder

Feel so very empty, often alone
But the voice in my head always makes itself known

Which I can't really say helps me out all that much
But better than no one to talk to, as such

Don't think we'll ever be sure what goes on
In the depths of our minds...or know what face to put on