We thought it was pure till the gatekeeper showed us the door, “If you love it, they’ll try to own it”—heard that before. Born a misfit in a crowd too tight, They don’t get our chaos, we glow at night. We’re the punchlines to a joke they don’t know, Every stranger I inspect could be my boy Jeff though. Stacked achievements like they’d save me—mostly aged me, Dreams don’t fill the void; they bill you daily. [Pre‑Chorus] I used to whisper “why me,” now I thank the sky, Turns out the ultimate dream is just to be and mean it, no lie. My only real talent? Not knowing when to stop— Every line’s a cry for help with a bass‑drum drop. [Chorus] Never needed perfect—only had to be free, Born a misfit in a crowd too tight for me. If this ain’t crazy, tell me what you call this?—psychosis, But I feel most alive when I don’t try to control it. Nothing truly matters—can I finally just breathe? Welcome to my brain—hyperfixation graveyard. Be. [Verse 2] It hits with no warning, mind goes hyperdrive, Could last a weekend or ten full years alive. Johto maps where my mind still goes, Toaster‑strudel offerings, Bobby Hill goals. Captain of the hoofball team, balloon‑game champ, Laugh loud, say dumb things—call it a field camp. Manipulator, investigator, instigator—facts, Tangle up the truth until it shows its roots back. [Pre‑Chorus] You say “relax,” I say “why?” while I’m running the math, Lose on purpose just to choose the ending of the path. I thought you made me who I was—you just blocked the view, I can’t keep pretending; I’m stepping out true. [Chorus] Never needed perfect—only had to be free, Born a misfit in a crowd too tight for me. If this ain’t crazy, tell me what you call this?—psychosis, But I feel most alive when I don’t try to control it. Nothing truly matters—can I finally just breathe? Welcome to my brain—hyperfixation graveyard. Be. [Post‑Chorus / Tag] Find beauty in the worst and the weird no one wants— I’ll leave what pays the most if it doesn’t feel honest. [Verse 3] I overthink, I overspeak, tattoo spirals every week, Boy Who Cried Wolf meets Tom Sawyer—tongue in cheek. Flip from real to ridiculous quick, Say what I mean—not when I should—still hits. You call it heavy; I call it play—I could go all day, You burn out; I build worlds from a broken idea bouquet. Call me cringe, I’m fascinated—I burn every form, Pick a lane? I’ll crash it, and reinvent the storm. [Spoken Bridge: The Questions] If tomorrow every rule changed, would you adapt or break? Would you let go of “reality” or hold it till it aches? Name the worst thing that could happen—say it without acting strong. Do you care for them or you? Is image driving you along? If losing everything meant rest—horror or relief? Peace with the truth, or die protecting the leaf? [Break / Build] I chased control like it meant something— Chasing medals that rot in drawers. Ugly but free; sloppy and honest— Freedom isn’t the checklist, it’s the pause. [Final Chorus] Never needed perfect—only had to be free, I used to whisper “why me,” now I shout “thank you” with glee. If this ain’t crazy, what do you call this?—own it, The moment is the message; stop trying to control it. Nothing truly matters—can we finally just be? Welcome to my brain—hyperfixation graveyard. Be. [Outro] EntertainmentKid1188 learned the game, D‑Boy lit the fuse, Dillon started this mess—chaos I choose. Success felt like a trap; I’m chasing release, Ghosts and Jeff in the same group chat—peace. I didn’t ask to be this weird; I just won’t pretend— When I’m done, I’m done. No second rounds. The end.
