The Creep Express

The Creep Express

They say you are a creep, a freak, a fucking weirdo,
you hair ain’t straight, you react too late,
you’re the outcast because they said so.

They make you the laughingstock, the smallest cock,
the last guy picked in gym, a rat that cannot swim,
when they fall they come to you, their own dry dock.

We run and hide, hide the anger we feel deep inside,
push and yell in your head, to those you wish dead,
hoping the nightmare is over before you have to fight.

One day they will stand, looking up at your feet,
green of envy, red of anger, you look and see,
they are jealous of who you are and who you meet.

You found the stairway to heaven, the festival express,
you found your talent, your dreams to follow,
when they made you such a mess.

They said you were a creep, a freak, a fucking weirdo,
your hair ain’t straight, you react too late,
but you dreamt and said: well, fuck you too, bro!