Count me in, before you kick me out.
We could argue 'till we're blue in my face,
adding assault to injury. Be gentle.
It's my last time to shine,
else I fall victim to the fists of time.
It seems our blood is worth no more than mud.
But that's a blessing, isn't it?
And, of course, I give into it.
Home is where the heart aches.
Home is where the love breaks.
Home never happened to me.
What you see is what you get,
and I suggest you get used to it.
Because I will never make you proud,
and that's something I can live with.
Things don't change, they stay the same.
It's only the words that rearrange.
I am the person I can't ignore.
I am the person that I abhor.
Fifteen years of endless fear,
of stolen youth, of keeping clear.
I am the person you can't ignore. I am the son you will never adore.