I live not in this fantasy world
Of hate well disguised;
The banner of love
Never fully unfurled.
My body is here,
Yet my spirit is gone.
I choose to ignore your subtle slams,
For they aren't mere jokes; they hold a silent sneer.
I refuse to bow to your heavy yoke.
I refuse to drink your bitter wine.
I will never be one of you.
I won't be part of such a joke.
Your voices are friendly enough...
When you use them to welcome...
But more often than not your mouths are sealed
To visitors, and to those you spurn your tone is rough.
I refuse to bow to your heavy yoke.
I refuse to drink your bitter wine.
I will not be one of you.
I shan't be part of such a joke.
I'm leaving. You don't really know
My story. You know my face.
Fools, you are, and think you know what I'm like,
But you don't. So...
I'll be seein' you.
Then again, perhaps not.
'Cause I'm done with the trash.
I'm sick of the stew.
Your words mean nothing
To the likes of me.
Your scowls I no longer see.
...And your cuts; they don't sting.
(I've found my own way of cutting myself up you see)
Goodbye.
Pretend I don't know you,
'Cause you never knew me.
