You being you

You being you, you can’t be
what you can’t be
You can’t see what you will be
You being you

you can’t hear how you sound to me
You being you
you have no sense of how you make me
Being you
you shake me

Being me it’s so hard to be me
It’s not fair to have to see the things I see
to feel the way I feel about me
It’s only me
But it’s fair to say

You being you
You don’t know what you left me
It’s nothing less than theft, see
You took it all and then you took it all away

And every single day I rise here from the landfill
It’s not your life, it seems, that ended up in standstill

in standstill

But you have never learned to walk
You’ve learned to write, but that’s just talk
The way you speak is this week’s weak
You’ve learned to steal and how to sneak
up on the weak among the living
Telling them you’re only giving
But you’re taking as you go

and you’re leaving lovers low
Where do you think the buggers go
Where do they go?

Where do they go?

They go here.