...Yet I still have visions of
Death and his father,

Disconsolate and privy
The tears of his mother

His love for her deep but
No one should know,
For her burden is heavy,
And her shoulders are low

6 billion,
7 billion,
she rotates all the more...

And yet I still have these visions
Of death and his father,

Furrowing along space without
Sister nor brother,
Sitting by his feet gaining his wisdom
Like fodder

The unenviable task,
Despised by all,
Such a burden to bear
Such a levy to toll...

It's funny, you can be in bed with soft, warm sheets
While there's a fire going on right up the street.
On that corner, there's a man begging for cash
While some kids drive by who don't appreciate what they have
They stop by a burger joint to get a bite to eat
While the kid flipping burgers is working towards a dream
See that boy has been working seven nights a week
At the end of the night, he asks for a raise
But the manager knows he's stuck in a maze
Shaking his head no, this world just doesn't pay
Building you up just enough to never reach the end
With all the money in the bank and not a dollar to spend.

It's funny, you wake up and lace up your shoes
While a kid down at the park is playing the blues,
A man on that park bench suffers from the real blues
Just from picking up his morning paper and reading the news
He gets so sick of the rat race, he goes home,
And prepares for a rigged game of Russian roulette
But right before he puts that barrel to the side of his head
His phone rings, and has a good chat with old friend
In that one call he puts dead, his plan to be dead,
Goes to a clinic and gets help instead.

It's funny, while I was writing or as you were reading
The man in the next room could bleeding
Shouting for help, you didn't hear his call
Focused on all for one, amigos, we need to be one for all
If no one is listening, I'm just talking to the walls

All the beautiful people I'll never be
Walking on these crooked paths and
See right through me, I see right through you
Who am I? I'm beautiful, you're beautiful.
And I find it scary, we define ourselves only by words
Found in every standard dictionary.
What's your beauty making you a freak?
Before you speak, understand, you don't need to speak
That quality may only be seen, and no word can describe
Why, in this world, you are perfectly unique.

Or maybe you got out of the house today,
With a crippling fear that you might deteriorate
If someone looked you straight in your eyes,
But you're still out there, anxiety building, coasting the tides.
A victory to me may be your every day life
So if today all you did was get out of bed
Instead of fighting a constant strife in your own head
I'm rooting for you, do everything that is you.

All the beautiful people I'll never be
Are just as broken, believe me
We all have a closet full of skeletons.
Dance with the bones, come into your own element
I'm alone in a room with a circus full of elephants
Juggling knives and flaming clubs, then turn them all to doves
They throw peanut shells and I dance in a deadly dust
Flying until I fall off this adrenaline rush.
All the beautiful people, will never be me.