Bags full of diapers Cars waiting in line Smell coming from the load Ashamed it was mine He noticed my insulin pump

The teenage rebels All fall in line Be they hippies Goths, rockers or skaters Moving from one mould

I told everyone About you The ugly beast Inside of me You can’t hide

I need to tell you How to survive With our disposition It’s okay to cry Maybe

I can feel it coming Decisions I can’t make Brain starts to freeze Fingers won’t work Sick of this disease

May sun is warm An old friend You have missed June sun Still smiles

I had it all In my head And then I said Words I do not know which ones

The passive-aggressive Guilt trip Is a weak tool For your purpose The sensitive

Restless As I lay in bed Trying to fall asleep These are my clues I might be low

The pine trees Reach up On both sides Of the road Telling me

He says I could never Get away with murder For I leave Pieces of me everywhere