Trapped in my box
I sometimes wonder what I'm doing here.
Am I needed in this hectic world?
Is there really a need for me?
Am I an asset to the country?

If we're the 'land of the free', why do I feel so trapped?
It's like I'm a mime in an invisible box.
I'm trapped, and I can't talk, so no one can free me.
They all think I'm there for their entertainment.

They can't see me in all my anguish.
They don't feel my pain.
As far as they know, I'm a cheerful, happy person.
And I'm rotten to my superficial core.

But, at last, someone to set me free.
A person who's a reject from society.
That's the only reason why they noticed me.
They're an outcast, just like me.

They can feel my pain.
They can relate.
They can prove the world wrong,
With just one simple song.

This is why you hear my cry,
With this tiny song of mine.
It can relate to a million other people.
If only you will let it.