My Kitchen Sink

The Death of The Girl With The Overactive Imagination

Be yourself

It began has a sentiment screeched begging in agony

Now it's a whispered statement

My teachers no longer dare to touch it

For it may invoke a feeling of individuality

And when I go to church

I sit in a pew and fold my hands

But God I am not sorry

To my music, I'm sorry you've all become basement songs

But I'm starting not to love him anymore

He's just another gray memory

And to the teddy bear sitting on my bed, I'm sorry you haven't seen me a smile in a while

It just gets harder when the girl with the overactive imagination

Became the freak who still wants to hold on to pieces of her old self

And I want to believe in something so bad

But I feel like a godly being has become the water slipping through my fingers

And to my art, I am sorry you're all black and white now

They told me color is distracting

Make emotion present

My melodies are fading

My beliefs are whimpering in a corner

You've all killed the bright shining girl I used to be

This is the death of the girl with the overactive imagination

I'm sorry to those who loved her

This is your apology

But make no mistake, you are the ones who killed her