This city is dead and this place is sin.

Alive with corpses and politics.

With their perfected frowns and crooked grins;

will I ever be the same?

The sights and sounds hide the disease of this overrated hypocrisy:

free in our so-called democracy,

will they come to cure me?

Yeah, take me to the hospital.

We're I'll be taught to be logical,

that my thinking needs to quickly change,

my behavior needs to rearrange;

they'll say, to them, my case is very strange,

then preach how its not okay;

to be what I've become today.

Well no I won't just look away, I reply,

"You're wasting your time trying to break the broken."

They'll give me one final try,

warn if this doesn't work, then I'll surely die.

Because the mold has been set to what is liked

but I don't mind the hatred.

You see, I was born with it, as were you

or have you forgotten what sins can do?

The good and bad of the passing crowds,

that don't understand why I won't sit down and I won't be still

because I haven't forgotten my freedom of will.

Yes, I'll take my chances with the leapers like me,

those cursed with individuality.

Because the truly free are a dying breed

and we will never be the same.