My kind.
I was placed into this generation.
Meant to be that one that makes your CD skip.
Go ahead and try make a quick fix.
But really I'm gonna be there messin up your shit.
For everyone even those lonely old hicks.
When actually its the other way around.
You mess up my shit.
My life.
My thoughts.
My heart.
My beliefs.
My style.
Sometimes I just wanna sit and look at it all.
Watch myself go to the window and take a big fall.
Crash on to the cement.
They must think I'm demented.
I'm stuck here, with nothin in mind
But yet I'm always in a bind.
Trying to find the time.
To go and make it all so sublime.
But there you stand, shout at me.
Tellin me what to be.
Its ok.
Go for it.
I'll live to see the next day.
But how about you?
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