People aren't what they are
They're not what they seem to be
You think of them one way
You're wrong by far
I wish it was the true person we see
Or at least that way they could stay
We all hide ourselves
For some it's good, others bad
Either way, the truth's on the shelf
Maybe the happy are really the sad
The ones who need support
Maybe the depressed are truly glad
Their cover isn't deep, it's short.
The quiet, the loud
The hater, the lover
Maybe they belong in a different crowd
Maybe it's just a cover
The dark and quiet maybe isn't the one hurtin'
Maybe the smiling bubbly person's the one
Maybe in the brain smart
But dumb in the heart
So when you see
This person, me
What on the surface you see
Just might not be
The real me.