This time I won't be hanging around   I'll sever the ties that have me gagged and bound   (your idle hands have tied you down)   What's to lose, enemies or friends?   What's the lynch mob's verdict, am I truth or am I trend?   Its easier to judge a voice than it is to use one   Its easier to avoid the sides than it is to choose one   Standards held on peers face their inventors with doubt   Soap operas rot themselves from the inside out      Your flaws are fooling you   They find themselves in others   I'm a black sheep with a hidden smile   Some things never change   You're a type-cast, with your head low   Secretly jealous and horribly plain      Exiled, from the best of the worst   Your cure is my curse      Your forest needs fire   Your abstinence needs desire   Your rubber neck needs barbed wire