Here I stand, a joke, the laughter in my ears,
From everyone who tells me I'm just another of
Those loser queers. A mockery, a beast,
Just an animal to say the least.
I can see when I'm not wanted, don't
Know how many times they've called
My name. Can tell when I've been
Spotted, been lost time and time
Again.

So I sit still, a vagabond, a little over-shocking,
Less and less come to my door, and almost
Always theirs a knocking. I can't recall who
I was, a blurry face in the crowd.
Now I'm always here because, I stand
Out in the misty shroud. I can never be
Heard, yet all can say my name.
Always the loudest booming voice,
Even if I'm "extremely plain."

And so I ask the world, why am I still here?
I've got no one who understands my needs,
No not one far or near. I guess in time I'll
Disappear like everyone knows I should,
Though if you have an itch you'll scratch it,
Even if they find out, like I always know you would...