Words.

Hide

I've gotta hide, I've gotta hide.

I can see the devil staring at me as if I had already died.

I see my fate ahead of me, there will be no wedding.

No wedding ring, no joy to sing of and I'm thinking maybe my life can go in a different direction, like a spinoff.

I cannot, I will not and I certainly do not know what will come of my life if I cut the wires, I might blow.

I looked up to the sky, asking God why he let me get this far when he knew how big of a scar it would leave me with.

I should've told myself that my emotions would leave me feeling as outcasted as John Smith.

I feel like a black sheep among these halls being taunted by the white ones, they make me feel so small.

I feel what I feel and I think what I think, but these sick and twisted little demons make me feel like I'm on the brink of the world's biggest cliff.

About to fall and die.

So be a good friend, and let me hide.