When you feel like the odd one out, like a fish whose water's run out.
You don't look like them but do you even care, the smell of suspicion hangs heavy in the air.
What does he want, why is he here?
No one thinks to ask, to talk to you, to find out what you think, what you believe, what drives you, what motivates you to sit in a cold room sticking out like a sore thumb that's been hit with a hammer.
I thought we were independent thinkers, the ones willing to think about things differently, so why judge me for looking normal?
I'm not after anything, I'm not snooping, casually seeing what you're up to, reporting back to someone.
It's just me, little old me, with my own thoughts, ideals and ideas.
Just me, sitting alone, resplendent in my own opinion, awash in my own beliefs, not sat on the fence, just unsure as to which side the grass is greener.
Still making my mind up, still weighing the options, because if you don't ask you wont know.
If you don't question you can't answer.
Right isn't always wrong and left isn't always right.
The Good guys might be bad lies and there isn't always a need to fight.