These painted butterfly wings,
won't get me very far,
and all of the trinkets and things
bring back memories of scars.
These middle school paper plains,
won't life me very high,
and all of these photos bring shame.
What weighs me down are the lies.
Inner beauty, and we still judge the cover,
read the Bible and follow rules,
**** all the boys and still looking for "One Lover"
love is cheap but I'm in for the jewles.
Like to much meat for one man to eat,
we bite off more than we can chew,
we always find some way to cheat.
Don't think I'm accusing you,
I'm just as deep in these worldly lies.
The only difference is I look past the smog,
I fly and go so high,
I'm out of the sickly fog.