Like an old newspaper no one has time to read
 This child has grown into a dead end
 Since I lost the power to pretend

 But it's all right, that's who I am inside
 Not much to say on this non-toxic, ordinary day

 That's no superhero standing right in front of us
 So take this pocket full of Kryptonite and beat it back to Metropolis
 There's only room for one on this microphone
 In my finest hour I'm still alone

 But old news can change, as memories float downstream
 So don't judge me by my failures, only by my dreams