This time I won't be hanging around

I'll sever the ties that have me gagged and bound

(your idle hands have tied you down)

What’s to lose, enemies or friends?

What’s the lynch mob's verdict, am I truth or am I trend?

Its easier to judge a voice than it is to use one

Its easier to avoid the sides than it is to choose one

Standards held on peers face their inventors with doubt

Soap operas rot themselves from the inside out



Your flaws are fooling you

They find themselves in others

I'm a black sheep with a hidden smile

Some things never change

You’re a type-cast, with your head low

Secretly jealous and horribly plain



Exiled, from the best of the worst

Your cure is my curse



Your forest needs fire

Your abstinence needs desire

Your rubber neck needs barbed wire