Carve us out with pen and paper.
Build our souls with clinical words.
You see what you want to see,
Self-fulfilling fantasies.
You have no clue who we really are.
No one wants to see the truth,
No one wants to face this reality,
The flowers bloom to wilt too soon.
This generation raised by Disney, pedophiles and McDonalds,
Gee, can't imagine why we're so fucked up.
We never had a chance at all,
No mother to love us, no father to protect us.
We have no clue who we really are.
Down on the floor,
Blood flowing from wrists long-shackled by apathy.
Nothing more vulnerable than innocence in the midst of wolves.
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