You know you don't belong anywhere
when
in a vat of misfit stew you find you're
the only one clinging to the
spoon

Go back to your nest my friend,
The world here is cruel and unkind.
Before you even spread your wings,
They will come with fire and sweet words
Burn you dreams
And even let you pay the price for it.
Demons roam here everywhere
Telling you, he is your guardian angel sent from heaven;
Teach you to be like everyone.
Fear inflicted on you if you are not norm;
All kids are born equal they say.
And if you show something they don’t like to see
There you become something, something called a Misfit.

Late - ly
I can feel the i - tch, I know:
It's preposterous.

Wh - y is it, that I
never can de - cide
who it is I am, with
con - fi - dence?

Modern tools aside,
I still take the r - ide
taken near distantly by
my an - ces - tors.

Late - ly
I can feel the i - tch, I know!
It's preposterous.

Now, kids, please listen
as you read my voice
how you like. How you like.
I thought I would die by
the time I was twenty five
at fifteen -- but look at me.
Now, kids, I'm touching
twenty nine with a cer -
tain newfound confidence.
I survived the prescription pills,
the gender redefinition, as well
as the hormone therapy, and I
want to tell you that I,
believe in you. I believe in you.

Cel - ebrate all of your pain
at your whim and as you live,
well, the pain will become
your friend and your impetus.

Lately, I can feel the itch.
I know it's preposterous,
but I must continue to
explore and change
unless I aspire to
placidity, and I
don't-- in fact
I never will.

Dust 'cross the ground
in the high noon
calls every boot heel
and tippy toe.

Slap. Clap.
Give it a little stomp.

Plumes in the air
comprised of motes
of hope from little feet
give a high rise.

Slap. Clap.
Give it try.

Some of the fun
in being misfit
is never
fighting
for alone time,
huh?

But.

Wolves need wolves
when the shepherds
turn to masters, turn
the sheep into chattel.

Sheep are sheep
for innocence
of sin, not err,
purity from malice.