It's not rage
You see in my face
I got tired of your pointed finger
Giving shape to my character
Forget that! I am not even much bother about that
But that rituals we had was cuffing me to the cage
Never been the free spirit but I always loathed
Not being able to choose my fate
So I talk silly and walk funny
But never did what was told
I just got good in pretending
My act always condescending