You run a charity
Outside of your concrete home
I wonder what’s inside of your tiny mind
That makes you think
You have every right
To criticize my life

By now
Your bedroom must be lined
With bookshelves
Of self written manuals
On how to turn lives upside down
By constantly running your mouth
To fuel your delusion

By now
Your charity must be going south
As your lamp has never taken a night off
You must have a new collection
A manual on how to play the victim
When you’re done tearing lives apart

You run a charity
Outside of your concrete home
I wonder what’s inside of your tiny mind
Maybe nothing really
Just self-loathing
And project it to people
Who are living their lives