Sitting on an orange sofa i stare out the window fuck the world for putting me here i didn't do anything wrong there's nothing wrong with me and who's to say that all you are are normal so what if i cry a little harder so what if i yell a little louder i watch the leaves dance but they're behind broken glass orange orange who's to say they're not couches this isn't going to make me better you know and who's to say i'm bad in the first place you never gave me a chance i'm not a criminal but you treat me like one i don't have anyone to talk to no one understands me no one cares i don't belong here yes i pull my hair out but i think you would too i never have anything to do except sit on an orange sofa