Mr. Misunderstood

[INTRO] (Room ambience) People ask,
“Why are you like this?” Funny… Nobody ever asked, “What happened?” Maybe that’s why… They call me… Mr. Misunderstood. [VERSE 1] Fear taught me
How to perform. Pride taught me
How to survive. Applause became oxygen. Silence became punishment. I smiled so long
I forgot
What my real face looked like. [PRE-HOOK] I searched for answers
Inside religion. Inside addiction. Inside reflection. Every mirror
Looked like someone else. [HOOK] Mr. Misunderstood… Not because
Nobody hears me… Because I forgot How to hear myself. [VERSE 2] Brown bottles. Heavy thoughts. Beautiful lies. Borrowed confidence. Every version of me Trying to outrun The little boy Still standing Exactly where I left him. [THOUGHTAHOLIC PURGE] No threats, no promises, problem solver with a pocket full of prophets and a conscience full of consequences, posture polished, product of a process, properly improper, pride profits when perception becomes a prison, paper bag prophet preaching peace while panic purchases permission, I don’t collect thoughts—I become the collision, every decision dividing divisions until precision cuts through religion, mirror me, fear of me, clearly see, nobody’s steering me but me, God in the questions, Love in the lesson, I quit asking who misunderstood me…when I never introduced me. [BREAK] (Breath) … I’m tired. [FINAL VERSE] It’s funny… There’s a flower Called Baby’s Breath. Nothing on Earth Has ever smelled Like my daughter Sleeping On my chest. That… Is the closest I’ve ever been To understanding Grace. [OUTRO] Maybe… Mr. Misunderstood Was never waiting For the world To understand him. Maybe… He was finally Learning To understand himself.