If misery were blood, how much would you bleed,
How many times would you let go of the misery you need,
could you see the warning, the warning you should heed,
or would you drink the world dry of it's misery, would you feed?

Could you be ordinary to all those that walk blind,
Or would they smell the death, the decay you leave behind,
Could you be found dead in an alley, or just barley alive,
You would be sight to see, misery and death, two of a kind,

You are one of many, many so ordinary, so often, so well blended,
With a mind of terror and pain, so turned, so twisted, so bended
You could be fixed, get some help, a family, all your wounds mended
You are Ordinary, every day, every way; mind astray, bruised, bent branded.



 
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