It's an external fuse that's lit
And ignites the internal hate and abuse
I put up a respectable fight
But at the end of the night
I always wonder, "what's the use?"
Now I have to come up with an excuse
For being me,
For being what you see
But I've run out of preprogrammed lines
Who I really am is already set in everyone's minds
I stand in fresh sand
The oceans tides has taken with it all of the lines
Rendering me lost
Is what I've paid anywhere near the actual cost?
When is it okay to say
Maybe this life is a loss...

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