over elaborate
longing for attention
nothing can fit who you are
or who you are trying to be
you're an individual
fresh from the mold
we can all hold hands
or we can break them
either way, you are an individual
true to your shell
you've got your middle fingers
but they can't always be up
and you have your escapes
but the door isn't always open
your faith has been altered
by this sliver of light
religion is no longer an option
christ is the enemy
the future isn't a concern
it's another gash on the wrist
burning in heaven
or flying in hell
it's all over now
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