| He was thirteen, moving on to high school
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| Didn’t know a soul, only cause he didn’t try to
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| His first day he was nervous at the thought of it
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| Tried to tell his mom but she never would acknowledge him
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| And so the only one he really could trust
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| Was his pride and his dignity, his word and his gut
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| Dressed in all black he would walk into the classroom
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| Based off first impressions they would label him a bad dude
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| He never knew that he needed to find himself still
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| He never knew that these people could try to help still
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| And so he’d go about his day without a sentence
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| Wouldn’t say a word yet his name was always mentioned
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| In the smoke pit most kids were fearious
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| Knew he had a problem and they knew that it was serious
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| Showed up to the games but he sat out all the periods
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| Seated at his table he was able to put fear in 'em
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| Nobody knew who he was, but they did know
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| He was sort of strange so they’d call him a schizo
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| Talk a bunch of shit and then they’d label him weird
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| Cause they couldn’t stand their own fucking face in the mirror
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| Nobody knew who he was, but they did know
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| He was sort of strange so they’d call him a schizo
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| Talk a bunch of shit and then they’d label him weird
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| Cause they couldn’t stand their own fucking face in the mirror
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| Class ended, he was headed back home
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| On that same old bike he would pedal that road
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| Felt like he was wanted when he never had hopes
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| Little did he know what the Devil had chose, cause
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| He came home and that door was wide open
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| His mom sprawled out on the floor, her pipe broken
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| Reaching for the phone as his grief hit the surface
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| To him this was proof he was weird for a purpose
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| Despite pain he dialled those three digits
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| Standing in the rain, he waited for ten minutes
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| But never shed a tear it’s making him gain interest;
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| Is it a state of shock? |
| If not he must have did this
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| They made him wait in the lobby down at the hospital
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| And he could tell that they thought that he was responsible
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| His mom’s pills got spilled, he grabbed a pocketful
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| Instead of trying to run he did the last thing possible
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| Nobody knew who he was, but they did know
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| He was sort of strange so they’d call him a schizo
|
| Talk a bunch of shit and then they’d label him weird
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| Cause they couldn’t stand their own fucking face in the mirror
|
| Nobody knew who he was, but they did know
|
| He was sort of strange so they’d call him a schizo
|
| Talk a bunch of shit and then they’d label him weird
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| Cause they couldn’t stand their own fucking face in the mirror
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| It wasn’t logical but still he felt the need to do it
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| He was strange and it bothered him all the people knew it
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| He took his own life, he never had to tell them why
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| The sacrifice that he thought would make him a better guy |