And

You came into this world,
And you were immediately different,
And people started to notice,
And the divide started to grow,
And you went to school,
And you cried a lot,
And you tried to fit in,
And people were confusing to you,
And the divide grew even more,
And you started to write and speak and sing,
And you got pretty damn good at it,
And you made a few friends,
And you lost even more,
And the divide became a canyon,
And you spent hundreds of hours thinking,
And you mastered the art of self-hate,
And you sang away every bit of pain possible,
And the body of a guitar flooded with frustration,
And you left home,
And you took yourself with you,
And you loved and you learned,
And you were milked of your creativity,
And you moved back home,
And you laid in bed but never slept,
And you decided to go again,
And you got in the car,
And you built your own home,
And you still felt miserable,
And you bit the bullet,
And you drove to Mishawaka, Indiana,
And you finally got the help you needed,
And you’re getting out in 9 hours,
And you’re gonna do things differently this time,
And…