This song, while its meaning likely different from my interpretation, seems to lay out the one consistent dilemma that I find myself in, and which usually gets me in trouble in the end.
I do feel as though it's a bit narcissistic to try and describe you're own life...
Remember when I really hated Emo-core in high school? If you do then you probably thought I was obnoxious (I'm sure that was the only reason). I've gotten pretty good about not hating things just to hate, but there is still something about this band that I just cannot tolerate. I don't know if its the whole get-up (i.e. the make up and clothes whatever). I just find it obnoxious. It's like Lady Gaga for me, I feel as though she'd be a great musician on her own without the uncooked turkey on her head. Call me shallow.
The music isn't that great to me either: It's just bland. Robert Smith's voice doesn't do it for me. If your band is going to be famous for a lead singer he should be like a Robert Plant and like a David Bowie if hes going to be this level of eccentric.
In the end I suppose it just boils down to preference. What I won't do now that I might have in the past is tell you that you suck for liking The Cure.