Maybe Mr. Drew was right
I wasn't meant to be
maybe I am an abomination after all
An imperfection of my world, and of yours
But a black stain on a canvas made for art, true art
trying to make up for my existence, but what's the point
when the walls come crashing down it will be on me
And darling, you keep trying to convince me it isn't so
you tell me "what do they know"?
If everyone thinks something, isn't it true, my love?
I don't understand why you are still tying, why you care
certainly you're sick
but hey, that's life
maybe Mr. Drew was right...