Everywhere I walk I'm watched,
By eyes that criticise each imperfection,
They laugh and jeer, feeling superior,
Yet I am left the inferior.

I hide away in the safety of my home,
Imprison myself in my bedroom walls,
To study how the herds behave,
Then paste a facade onto myself.

Stripped of every shard of indiviuality,
But I still stick out like an outcast.
It's hard to follow the crowd,
When you're born to be the clown.