• If I hear my name in the hall,
    I have a tendency to close myself in.
    You could call it paranoia, but
    Meager confidence just isn't worth the risk.

    Can you blame me for my instinct?
    You know you scare as much as I do.
    If you don't see why I worry,
    Try and imagine if everyone knew,

    About those silly little things.
    Those things should be so inconsequential.
    But when there are a million hammers,
    No one wants their head sticking too tall.

    Cause we are of bitter essence,
    And humiliation is what we need.
    Still I don't see the joy of,
    Feeding and breeding on miseries.

    Is crying a commodity?
    For these stale tears are you a paraphile?
    Did sentences become weapons?
    Is saying, "fat ********" launching a missile?

    Is what we are in World War 2?
    Are we then meant to be Nagasaki?
    Am I the United States?
    If so, get ready for the bombings.

    Because if I wished I could rip right in,
    Tear through the flesh and the rest in seconds.
    Deconstruct you bit by bit, and
    Excuse myself with some talk of penance.

    I could make you feel pathetic,
    Strip you naked to be seen by many.
    It isn't hard to make you cry,
    But I would rather see you happy.