[INTRO — nearly whispered, intimate] I learned early how to keep my head down Learned which doors were mine to use Learned everybody loves a simple answer And hates the ones they can't reduce I got dirt on my shoes Got names I can't forget Got a few things I carried in And a few I haven't dropped yet [ROOTS GROOVE — conversational, settling into pocket] They said, "Pick a side." I said, "Which one?" They said, "Know your place." I said, "I'm looking." They drew a line across the floor Like that settled everything I stepped over it before they finished Said, "Sorry. Habit." I've been too much for some people Not enough for some of the rest Spent years trying to explain myself Like I was taking some kind of test I've slept in places I didn't know Walked streets I couldn't name Learned home ain't always where you're from Sometimes you build it as you go [HOOK — melodic, physical, memorable] I'm outside the box Outside the line Outside whatever you decided I was supposed to be this time I'm outside the box Still walking my own way If you need me to fit your picture You might have to change the frame [ART-ROCK DETOUR — sharply fragmented] This side. That side. Left. Right. Good. Bad. Wrong. Right. Who made the box? Who drew the line? Who gets to say Where I belong? [HARD STOP] [HIP-HOP POCKET — swaggering, tightly rhythmic] I got dirt on my shoes Got trouble in my past Got a few things I learned the hard way And a few I learned too fast One label, one word One little checkbox You can write it on the paper But you can't make me stop I learned from the old ones Picked up something from the young Kept what made me stronger Dropped what made me numb I got a rhythm in my footsteps Got a question in my mouth Every time they build a fence I find another way around They want a clean definition I keep giving them the truth They want to know what I belong to I say, "You'll have to let me choose" [REFLECTIVE BREAK — stripped bare] Maybe I spent too many years Trying to explain myself Trying to make everybody understand Why I don't fit their shelf Maybe I don't need an answer Maybe I don't need a name Maybe some things don't need fixing Just because they don't look the same [HYBRID DANCE GROOVE — lifting, communal] I'm outside the box Come on, step outside There's a whole world moving On the other side Outside the box Where the crooked roads run free You don't have to leave yourself behind To become who you're gonna be [THEATRICAL PEAK — full, powerful] They can call me complicated They can call me hard to place I've been the wrong kind of person In a hundred different places Every road I walked down Every door I couldn't close Every mistake I had to live with Taught me something I now know So I won't cut off my corners Just to make somebody's square I won't spend another lifetime Trying to prove that I belong there I've got too many roads behind me Too much life to second-guess I'm not every single thing they wanted But I'm finally done apologizing for the rest I'm outside the box Outside the line Outside whatever you decided I was supposed to be this time I'm outside the box And maybe that's alright Maybe freedom isn't finding where you fit Maybe it's knowing when to step outside [FINAL RETURN — quiet, exposed] I don't need the whole world To understand me now I just need enough room To live the life I'm living And figure the rest out Outside the box. Outside the line. And if you draw another one I'll probably step outside.
