I don't know what to do with my self
so I think about you
cause you've got it
and you flaunt it
you are their own reflection
you like one of charles mansons lost children
being interviewed by barbara walters
they hand you tissues
while they hook us in chains
you're the one we gaze at
among a universe of stars
we claim you as ken
we put trust in you
in not to do anything
but enjoy yourself
and let us all know how it feels
it's just a ritual at this point
overkill
like in everything
an idea sparks
but then quickly dims
like a game of telephone
who's message rings clearer
we march and we whistle
we make it come true
some great fantasy
a queen bee
a Prime example
oh to all us fuck ups
how we all just need an easy friend
it passes the time
breaths in the wind
