How many times will I let it be?
People are just too blind to see.
My eyes got dry,I've shed many tears.
I used my screams,my wounded dreams...
Then I thought:
Why should I bother?Why should I bleed?
Why should I dump all the things I need?
Why should I think hard before I speak?
Why I'm trying to prove that I'm not a freak?
So,I decided to be what I want,not afraid to
say which is my favorite band,not too small to
lower my head while they talk,but always there to
give them the lethal aftershock.
I wear black and skulls and bows,make my hair look like thorns.
I feel alive by playing dead,when I hear their voices in my head.
Some people say I'm pathetic,but I'm still free to have my perspective.