Now, I'm no raving beauty, it's true,
But there is one thing, for
sure, that I know.
The freaks are alive and they
live everywhere,
And they never fail to put on
a show.
They travel the halls and
they frequent the malls
Aimlessly roaming the streets
without fear,
And I wonder and ponder as
they pass me by
Is it possible they own a
mirror?
If they do, do they use it?
For I just can't see
How they hope to be
understood.
Do they stand there before it
and think to themselves,
"Damn it all! I'm
looking good!"
It seems that they've really
gone out of their way
To tickle the fringe of the
truly absurd.
My thought is to laugh, but I
hold it inside,
And just shake my head...
Don't say a word.
Oh! To be different! To stand
from the crowd.
To totally be so unique.
The price that you pay to
have people say
As they point at you,
"Look at the freak!"
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