Why do I feel like I am a square in world of circles?
But when everyone is suddenly a square, I think,
Does anyone fit in at all?
Why does it feel like everyone knows what you are thinking?
But when no one works like me, I think,
Does anyone ever think at all?
Why do things never work the way they're supposed to?
But when they do work, I think,
Does the work mean anything at all?
Why do we use words to separate?
Because when our blood runs the same colour, I think,
Does a label really matter at all?