They don't like the real me.
If they saw my inner scares they'd like me even less.
So I'll pretend for them... Out comes the needle and the thread.
I pretend I'm something I'm not.
But pretending wears me down... wears me out.... Makes me sick...
And its harder to pretend... harder to put on a mask.
But pushing forward isn't so bad....
Knowing I'm closer to the end of my facade.
When I am mine and not theirs... never theirs again.
But until then... I'll pretend for them.