small frame flat chest
i wait here for my eyes to rest
can’t sleep from the heat
i let my tears fall on the sheet
talk to myself
talk myself to death
i’ll tell myself a million times
“you’re ok, it’ll be ok”
“you’re ok, it’ll be ok”
“you’re ok, it’ll be ok”
“you’re ok, it’ll be ok”
‘cause there’s no such thing
as a white knight in shining armor
my father was always the guy
who assured me he’d be there one day
but who’s to say it’s a real fantasy
i don’t mean to cry so much
it’s from anger, from being torn
from the doubts of people caring
i told myself today
no one cares as much as they say
i guess i just learned
that with wear and tear, people can change their minds
they change their minds
because we’ve become accustomed
to the lifestyle that that’s okay
it’s not me, though
and i’m okay with that.
i don’t fit in that crease
where all the typical people and relationships meet
i don’t fit in the hole where people need to dig themselves out and start over
i don’t fit in where people change their minds
they refuse to believe me
refuse to believe me
refuse to believe anything different then to what
they’ve been raised
which is why no one cares
only about themselves
it’s something we’re fit to do
something our elders left us behind
but it’s not fair
what about a different piece of mind?
