I don't know what to do
I saw the poverty of the world in June
But "at least its not me"

Everyone is depressed and broken
They're filled with pain, unspoken
But "at least its not me"

The weight brings me down
All the colors blur into brown
They tell me "just be thankful"

How can I be thankful for a toilet
When my friends are escaping a bullet?

How can I think of comfort and the fireside
When broken children are committing suicide?

Comfort is nice, but does it really matter? Just look around, humanity is shattered
But "at least its not me"