I'm talking about my bubble here
I'm talking about how
I don't need to know
I'm saying you don't need to take that
sledgehammer and pound
cuz yeah.. maybe my bubble will slip
right past
but most likely?
it'll
pop
and it'll shatter
and so will i
the pieces will fall
like raindrops
and i'll be tumbling along
that highway road to hell
and I'm screaming
and i'm whispering
and i'm pleading
that i don't
just think i'm this way
I am this blind...
I like walking down the hall
in my middle school like clothes
temptress just isn't part of my name
sexuality isn't part of my game
I want the standard guy to hug
but I also want the carefree
yes i love you babe
that is symbolized by
streaming past fields and rivers
like Pocahontas and whats-his-name
under the smiling sun
I want the cliches
and I know i've been asking
millions of times
and i know you haven't been listening
millions of times
but i'm asking again
if you could
leave my bubble of innocence alone
because maybe it won't survive
the next guy with a sledgehammer
but please don't be the next guy
i don't want to be lonely or cynical yet
i don't want to be you
yet