the deconstruction of my soul
the over simplification of my mixes
the dehumanization of my character
maybe, it's my freedom of guile
the new-age passing of time, innocence of a newborn child
we were all but once babies of sharing of the common
experience of the forlorn bitterness, this woe called life
maybe, it's easy to judge my contrast of character
the guilty heart outtells the inmost fearful thoughts
the dramatic awakening of the undressing of liars
I pity those who carefully live outside of this reality
maybe, it's the way those true things make me smile
there is a gleam to these true things that give me hope
the conformity, fact of the matter, eases and makes it simple
burden of freedom, watch and listen, think before I speak
maybe, this life is a play, we are actors on the stage
I hate gay crowded places, I will never learn to engage in drama
I can be apart of everyone from afar, easy light-hearted conversation
well, I can't complain, take it easy as the metaphor of rain
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