Idyllic families
Childhood prodigies
Standards set so high
An altitude they cannot fly.

P-R-O-D-I-G-Y!

High School rolls in,
For some reason they cannot win,
Lost faith in the Father,
Take those kids through slaughter.

P-R-O-D-I-G-Y!

Every word becomes a drone,
They begin taking the phone,
It doesn’t change anything,
So now they’re questioning.
“Do you respect me?”

P-R-O-D-I-G-Y!

“Not since you made me bleed”
It’s rhetorical, they don’t care.
They’re projecting, old dreams, it’s not fair.

P-R-O-D-I-G-Y!

Fast track all the way to graduation,
Barely made it with a lil medication.
Standards in the sky,
Rest In Peace, fly high.