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Some doors are locked, some windows can't be opened...
I wanted to be a rock-star back in high school. I used to rat my hair up and wear black lipstick and eyeliner to school, just like Robert Smith, but ten years younger...
I must have been called a fag by everyone in my school... Even the teachers... But I didn't care... I knew that one day I'd be hanging with Morrissey. I'd be friends with important people, interesting people... I'd write songs that would move the kids to tears, and I'd stab the "system" right in the fucking head...
Unfortunately, eyeliner comes off... Hairspray makes my head itch... I've never met anyone famous in my life... I have to work... I'm nobody, just like everyone else...
Where did my dreams go? I don't even remember when they died...