Your Favorite Scene

I'm stuck in a junkyard, a graveyard, a garden of broken dreams

Full of flowers that never sprouted or maybe tried to but never had a chance.

I walk along the graves of fallen angels who now have grown cold and mean,

I'm walking on broken glass, broken promises that never lasted and I get a hateful glance

From these people that work in the steeple of ignorance and hate.

Anyone different can get things thrown at them in class and shoved in lockers and stay

Hidden from the world and ridiculed and beg God to let them in through The Gate

Earlier than they're supposed to. But He won't let them so they just wait and play

life's little games like the others. The ones at the front desk filing their nails and rolling their eyes

or the ones at the gas station who don't serve to my kind, who play it safe.

They stay below the radar, walk in single file lines and tell little white lies,

Keep it together and hide inside their caves

But, One job could change my life

One job could save my life

I'll leave here forever with my head held high; knowing I got what I came here for.

I won't die with a bottle in my hand choking on a bathroom floor.

I'll be behind the camera playing God for the silver screen

I'll make them cry, I'll make them laugh, I'll make them smile, I'll make them scream in fear.

Or excitement for my midnight premire? 

I'll wear red lipstick to match the carpet I'll be walking along

I'll look in the camera while you're at home and realize you were wrong

I'll be interviewed and they'll ask "How does it feel?"

They'll care enough to ask "What's your favorite meal?"

It's revenge, a dish best served cold.

I did it by letting the real me unfold .

I wrote it down.

I left that town

that junkyard, that graveyard, that garden of broken dreams.

Full of flowers that never understood that this life is not what it seems.

It's gorgeous up here, I'll depict that in my pictures on the big screen

to show you that today should be your favorite scene.

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