Describing my life, sure, at it I'll take a stab, even if richness and fame I may not have.
Like a paper on the wall,
Gather 'round, come one and all
No matter what it is I do, people always stop and stare
I so wish that sometimes, they just wouldn't care
I'm not amazing, famous, or rich,
But when I deny whom I am, the press makes me a bitch
They all want my clothes, my wigs, and my snot rags, too
I've even woken up without insoles inside of a shoe
A normal life is something that I'd kill for
Too bad my parents dragged me through this door.