Imposter Syndrome...

Midnight on the highway, dust in my hair
I’m breathing in the city’s sinful air
I say "I love you" and it sounds so sweet,
Like a melody playing on a one-way street.
Am I really happy, or just good at the part?
A master of faking a broken heart.

It’s my Imposter Syndrome, babe, tonight,
I’m a shadow dancing in the strobe light.
I’m a fraud, I’m a fake, I’m a beautiful mess,
Hiding the truth in a vintage dress.
Call me a winner, but I know the score,
I don’t even know who I am anymore.
(Oh-oh, my Imposter Syndrome)

You’re looking at me like I’m some kind of saint,
But you don’t see the cracks in the fresh white paint.
I’ve got the lyrics, I’ve got the beat,
But I’m just a ghost in the driver’s seat.
But am I the singer or just a machine?
A glitch in the heart of a perfect scene.

It’s my Imposter Syndrome, babe, tonight,
I’m a shadow dancing in the strobe light.
I’m a fraud, I’m a fake, I’m a beautiful mess,
Hiding the truth in a vintage dress.
Call me a winner, but I know the score,
I don’t even know who I am anymore.
(Oh-oh, my Imposter Syndrome)