I think I find being misunderstood the most disappointing thing
I use you as a mirror and lament my own mediocrity
The sadness of standing behind you and knowing that we can only fight our own battle
wishing somehow you would respect me and see the lengths I have gone to earn it from you
after I have championed you to so many, these are words you do not hear
songs you think unsung
what I see is your own anger and sadness
and even after we have danced in a sour tongue
I still will sing them for you have more merit then one off note