Why do we feel we must be fake
like as if somehow our lives are at stake...
Remember the beach
Under the moonlight...
I'm trying to think of something to write
On this frigid Winter night...
Pretty girl turned 17
and moved out on her own...
A tear runs down your cheek
Grieving...
Feeling depressed...not knowing why.
Having a rotten time, but not wanting to die...
Where do you go
When no one is there...
How do we know the things we know?
Can one discovery change the way we think...
(This is directed to the people they call popular)
I know you think that I'm different...
I suspect that I’m losing my mind
I find that I’m so confused...
I kissed my wife goodbye last night,
so I can set up my place to work at first light...
I don't belong here,
I don't belong on this earth...