They scream, they scream for him.
They scream his name and not mine.
What we are taught is one and the same.
They scream for him and not me.
The songs we sing are one and the same.
Then I end up sounding lame.
The world, the world, the world, it isn't ready for me.
I want to scream it out loud, I want them to hear me.
I want them to know to me.
What I do, who I am, what they can't see!
I want them to scream for me!
Shout it from the rooftops.
Stop and stare when they see me there.
The world isn't ready for me.
They scream for him.
For him and not me.
Our art is different, the same in a way, but when compared, he always seems to win.
The world! It isn't ready! It isn't ready for me!
YOU ARE READING
My Book of Songs
RandomI have written all of these and want to share them with you. Please be kind about your comments and stuff.
