You say I put a pretty bow on things
A bow on shit and death
Is still shit and death

I'm sorry I have the social worker glaze
I'm sorry I'm still in a boyhood daze
I'm sorry that my soul has been in a maze

I change nothing
I'm an artist
I just inspire you to do
What you already knew you should have done all along

I'm a cheerleader
Then a warrior
And I don't know which role is more wrong

I'm trying to break through, I'm trying to find
What is beyond boys and bows
And the nothing boys and bows bring

We've painted over the real for so long,
Nobody ever knows... because once you do know,
You just die, and then what's the point and
When I'm real it would just make you cry

So you'll know a little better, when I die....
My bow will become untied