We have bad hair weeks, not days,
We have open wounds, and aren't ashamed.
We have great taste in music, better than you,
We hate bad moods, sick of feeling blue.
We have tattoos, we date bad boys,
We have dyed hair, and aren't afraid of noise.
Normal doesn't matter to us, because we don't care,
We're fed up with society, because it's not f***ing fair.
We have fights, but we're still alive,
We hold grudges, you have to be tough to survive.
We are one united, clutching each other's slit wrists,
Against the odds, we'll get through this.
We have infectious laughs, that the world can hear,
We get bad reports, but we've forgotten fear.
We have flaws, they reflect our pain,
That we're fed up of hiding, what's left to gain?
We look at the world with anger, for it has shaped what we've become,
We are societal outcasts, and it's a hell lotta fun.
