State of the art scars line beautiful skin.
The mind forms criminal thoughts laced with sin.
We fall prey to those lying in the dark.
The walls cave in, I’m sinking.

We can’t hide our wasted youth.
Sinister pretending is no use.     
Take my hand and we’ll run,     
From all the absentminded love.
         
They will never understand.    
We burn out only to be reborn again.    
Surrender to their rules no more.  
They’re not worth living for.

Standing on the edge of all the glory,
thinking we don’t deserve to tell the story.
They told us it was a phase.
We’re not a disgrace.

We’re just different.
We.
Are.
Misfits.