Gym existentialism?

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I found this index card on my preferred elliptical machine at the gym today, and I read it, thinking it sounded like some overwrought poetry by a heartbroken post-teen. Then I decided to take it with me and maybe send it in to Found, because they do love randomly abandoned index-card poetry (as do I).

But I did some sleuthy Googling and realized that it's not really a poem; it's lyrics from two songs (the first bit by screamo purveyors Thursday and the second bit by Kinks-inspired The Telltale Hearts), pieced together.

So, no gym existentialism. Just the absentminded doodlings of an angst-ridden gym rat. Which, I guess, is poetry after all.