Pitchfork Skin

Shocked they all feel when they see his red painted don't touch me skin,
Something quite odd to see.
But nobody manages to see what is really underneath.
Loneliness and betrayal have been with him his whole life,
Respect and loyalty he cannot find.
The people who talk don't really care,
The ones who stay, get cut by his sharp stare.

But underneath that pitch fork red skin,
Hide feeling that he denies to feel.
Staying up till dawn is his way of coping,
But it's hard when the paint is so heavy

Exhausted he is from the weight,
But as long as unbothered he'll bear through the pain.
Nobody knows if he's dead or alive..
Nobody knows what hides behind those dark eyes..
If someone was to try and see,
They probably end up as dead as they can be.

Is somebody dares to touch him,
His wrath is unleashed.
Because past memories haunt him,
Memories that don't let him breath.
The nights he wakes up sweating in fear,
Is because that feeling is back.
The feeling of no control,
The feeling of fear,
The feeling of weight in his chest,
The feeling is real.

There's days he can't stop thinking about it,
There's day that nothing happened.
But even if he was to talk about it,
It's too late to act about it.

So he'll stay right there
With his don't touch me skin.
His stare sharp as a sword,
His attention as awake as can be.
Sometimes he feels it again.
The feeling of expectation,
The weird feeling in your stomach,
The overwhelming fear the place brings.

But he can't do shit about it.
At least not about him.
All he can do now is protect,
And help those that cry.
He'll most likely defend with his life
Since there's no point in it.
He's made to protect and heal,
Those who's feeling do reveal.

But after all, he's just a boy.
One certainly different from others.
And as you picture a monster in your mind,
He'll continue weeping 'till his skin sheds once more.