If you sing a song, sing a song for them If you sing a song, sing the song for them For the bats and belfry and the fairies on Main Street For the deadbeat daddies and the Boulevard freaks For the little girls with the carousel eyes And the brick-a-brak finding housewives, losing their minds
Sing the song for them, if you sing a song Sing the song for them If you sing a song, sing the song for them
To the never-made-its, and the unrecognized To the alley rats and the tenement flies To the weekend tweakers, the blond and the blind To the ex-thrill seekers in the methadone lines
Sing the song for them If you sing a song, sing the song for them
To who you are, and will never be To the shaking hand of the maker we’re all going to meet Sing the song for them If you sing a song, sing the song for them
I glanced around my empty apartment, the silence pounding painfully in my ears. Here I was, living breathing proof that people just don't change. I'm 19 years old, I should be in college, hooking up, getting drunk and having fun, but instead I was sitting alone on the couch because just could face them anymore.
To be honest, it's pathetic.
If everyone else can do it, so can I, it's about time I at least pretended i fit in. Everyone was talking about how some club was opening tonight. It could be fun, and if I stick out like a sore thumb I'll sit at the bar and get drunk and don't even notice.
An on that note I changed my clothes and gathered my stuff, dashing out the door and hailing a cab before I could change my mind.