what is perfect? not me i've been overworking for weeks i go home then purchase some things that i know will not fill my needs have a dose of what i've achieved then get lonesome and i critique who i am and what i believe make up standards too high to reach ... yeah, ain't this all i ever wanted? that's a fact, no, that's a lie, no i'm confused, yeah, i got problems what's the use? yeah, let's be honest screws are loose, i need 'em tightened ... take your shoes off, you're in my home you got fans, but not like i do ... thankful, i try to be, can't contain what's inside of me they don't like this side of me 'cause i lack in compliancy ... write my name on your hit list, it might be the last time you wrote something rip that cocky smile right off your face for thinking you're close to me grab a can of gasoline, light it all over your self-esteem ... show up to my funeral wearing all black, and what's happening? i look around and wonder, "where my fans at?" oh Lord, they know me so well, they know i'm not in that casket trash bag is prolly buried somewhere full of my ashes ... sit back and observe, nah, i like to actually work this life's so unpredictable, it just keeps pitching me curve i take a swing, i hate the things that make me feel like i'm dirt i've patiently been waiting, please, i think it's time for my turn my expertise are melodies, they talk to me when i'm hurt just let me be, eventually someday they'll see what i'm worth i cross my Is and dot my Ts, it makes no sense, but i've learned normal to you is not to me, the outcast finally returns nf
