I'm not suppose to be here,
Not suppose to be able to sing,
In this place of material wealth,
I am not suppose to grieve.
Father deem me a prophecy celebrity,
Get me worthy, Get me something,
Give me dominion over Spring.
Why I don't bother to announce,
My source material even now.
Father, I'm flirting with a ghost god,
He doesn't see me as a fire thief,
He doesn't want to believe I ain't real,
Guzzling gold out of the locket,
Slurping electricity from the socket,
egocentric imaginary juvenile,
Robbing Rapunzel from the garden,
****** the lock of golden cherry loud,
The word's never been worthwhile.