Internet Ruined Me

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D A D Bm

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[Verse 1: Wilbur Soot]
D                            A
My keyboard's like my heart
                            D
It shines in RGB and it's full of blood
                    A
I don't know what is wrong with me
                                D
But I'm scared, pissed off and lonely (horny)
                            A
I have trouble speaking to women
                            D
Unless they're 2D or high definition
                             A
Spend all my time on social media
            Bm                D
This is the state that I'm in


A D A


[Verse 2: Wilbur Soot]
D                           A     A*
My Twitter feed's like my brain
                      D
'Cause I have it on dark mode
                           A
Memorise everything she says
                                  D
So I can use it to guess her passcode
                   A
She's beauty, she's grace
                                  D
She has a profile picture of her gorgeous face
Continues after the ad
                        A
To try and get more sponsors
     Bm               A         Bm*
To try and get more sponsors


[Chorus: Wilbur Soot, Chevy]
A*                  D
But why don't you care?
        Bm*                 A*
I have spent the past ten years of my life
    D
Making you prepared
       Bm*                   A*
You're political enough but not contrary
    D
Sexual enough but not enough to scare me
Bm          A                 D
Give me a reason not to be on my knees
 E                        E*
The internet has ruined me


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[Verse 3: Wilbur Soot]
D                          A
Look, I know I must sound insane
                         D
But that's part of the package
                               A
If she can't handle me at my worst
                               D
She don't deserve my mental baggage
                          A
I know you want six foot four
                                      D
But one foot more and I'd almost be tall enough
                                  A
To reach the high shelf, be your incel
                 Bm               D        A
I think I might be a threat to myself
              D
A threat to myself

[Interlude]
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[Chorus: Wilbur Soot, Chevy]
Bm*  A*             D
But why does she run?
          Bm*               A*               D
When I'm monthly giving her fifty percent of my income
    Bm            A
It feels like my ideas of affection
    D
Are based around artificial perfection
Bm        A            D
I just want to appease
   E*
The internet has ruined me


F#m    E D     A
Hmm-mmm, mmm-mmm
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Hmm-mmm, mmm-mmm


[Outro: Wilbur Soot & Chevy]
D                               A
We used to sleep on call together
                                D
We used to sleep on call together
                                A
We used to sleep on call together
                                D
We used to sleep on call together
                                A
We used to sleep on call together
                                D
We used to sleep on call together
                                A
We used to sleep on call together
               Bm
We used to sleep