They are all different colorsSome flashier than othersSome rusty on their doorsOthers with snow stuck underneathClouded purple in the backseatCut black moving fast in the frontLike the speed of bright lightThe people gather around the sceneThe scene of many photosThey got there all right The empty circle filled with gossipThe number of people amazedThey whiz

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Pleasedon’t just stand therelike you give a crap about meWhenyou clearly don’tand have no intention of helping me when I’m in troubleBecause I know you hide behind false wordsand lie to yourself dailyabout how great you areAnd you aren’t in any way greatfor you don’t follow your own wordsand spit out what doesn’tfeel right to

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