Like a blustery, snowy day when it's almost spring My essence seems out of season upsetting everything. A different drummer I step to, a syncopated native beat. While most folks tiptoe around it, I step firmly with both feet. Too deep for this world, can't dilute my soul and water it down, just so you can swallow it whole. Can't feed you piecemeal it's bursting right through. I'm giving you my all, is it too potent for you? Couldn't change if I wanted to, this is who I am. Can't pretend I don't care, when I really do give a da**. Won't cause ruckus and throw a fit, if I truly don't give a sh**. Can't pack up my words and go for they're an essential part of me, so.... I'll write some more scribes, you'll harp on the bad, and misread the good. And I'll continue to deal with being perpetually misunderstood.