I'm sick of feeling this way,
Feeling like I was born for dismay.
I'm tired of not being enough,
Like I fall behind and then I have to bluff.
Never the first choice,
That really makes my eyes moist.
I could pour my heart's blood into a wooden bowl,
And it still wouldn't have enough pieces of my soul.
Somewhere along the way I lost my innocence,
Lost my pride and my common sense when I bought this world's nonsense.
This world broke me down,
Spun me around and pushed me to the ground.
And it was this world that picked me up,
Made me arrogant and made me tough.
I could pour my heart's blood into a wooden bowl,
And it still wouldn't have enough pieces of my soul.
What happened to my sentiments? What happened to my heart?
I'm not the only one who fell apart.
But somehow I seem isolated,
Like somehow I was the only one created.
Created to fall behind,
Created to lose my mind.
Created to be less then who I could be,
Created to live like a dilapidated version of me.
