They hail you as their morning star
Because you are the way you are.
If you return the sentiment,
They'll try to make you different;
And once they have you, safe and sound,
They want to change you all around.
Your moods and ways they put a curse on;
They'd make of you another person.
They cannot let you go your gait;
They influence and educate.
They'd alter all that they admired.
They make me sick, they make me tired.

Who seek to find monogamy,
Pursuing it from bed to bed--
I think they would be better dead."

And let her loves, when she is dead,
  Write this above her bones:
"No more she lives to give us bread
  Who asked her only stones."

If wild my breast and sore my pride,
  I bask in dreams of suicide;
If cool my heart and high my head,
  I think, "How lucky are the dead!"

Sometimes
Your enemies keep you in thoughts
more than your loved ones

I'm the cold hard ground
But she is the gentle rain
That makes flowers grow

Somewhere on the way
I lost me, you lost you, but
We found each other

I'm just a dreamer
Chasing shadows in the night
Pretending they're real

They always say that
Tomorrow might be better
But I'm still waiting