Welcome to the world of bizzare events

Welcome to the world of bizzare events

Where everyone is so high they’re all just trying to forget

And everything is not what it seems, and nobody

Knows anything worth knowing. Welcome

To the village near Losertown, we’re the lost, forgotten cousins

Of the ones nobody knows. We’re the once three times

Removed from you’re uncles grandmother’s cousin

So, you wouldn’t know us, would you now?

And we’re the marching parade of drunks, idots,

Druggies, mentals, freaks, weirdos, plastics, scenes

And Kings and Queens, to long seen to be remembered

We’re the ones knocking at your door, sitting in your table

Gazing at the floor and thinking of surrender

A collection of geeks and freaks, who know more then they wanted

Or not enough to be who we want to be.

We’re the dreamers, and that’s what gets us through.

The stupid, silly things we make up to make the hours seem

More bareable, and the physical pain is eased away with songs

And lyrics, if not the very sound of drumms under our windows.

Eased away with pens and pencils, and blank sheets of paper.

They see colors and rhymes as a hole different dimesion,

They’re the Jedis of our time, but here they stand, waiting in line.

We’re tall, we’re small, we’re white and black, and we’re just so fucking grey it’s silly

And you can’t see us but we’re there, standing by the wall

And we’re all thinking the same, at some point in the day.

“What the hell am I doing here?”