The world is backwards
It’s the simple truth
It isn’t a metaphor
This world won’t give you anything
But condemn you for wanting more
For deciding it isn’t enough
Even if the country was built on the backs of your ancestors
They’ll tell you that it’s a “you problem” or “that’s tough”
Until the only memory that remains is of the white man, not your black brothers and sisters
But even they are backwards
Your brother suddenly decides to kill you one day
And your sister, despite being closer to you in age
Is the one that lies to you and ruins your birthday
But you don’t let them wreck your life or any other day
Because you have more to worry about
You have more to do, more to think, but nothing to say
Because the world won’t listen to you even if you shout
And even though it hurts bad and everything is mundane
You try to find peace in the silence
That is like a light a drizzle
Not hard or sad, not quite rain
The reality of it only hits you when the wind blows
So you try to find something to love you, a distraction
Even though you already know
All you’re looking for is addiction or attraction
But the things you’re addicted to run out
And the people who “love” you shut you out
So all you’re left with is the suicidal thoughts and the Depression you’re courting
But the wind blows again, and with it comes the reality that you’re only thirteen
And the thing about being thirteen
Is the middle of a quarantine
Where, in the midst of sickness and politics, people tell you to leave your home
But you’re afraid, crying, and–most of all–alone
But you can’t tell your family
Because you’ve been acting okay
Even though you’ve sobbed every night
And prayed for their survival every day
And now it’s gone
And you’re different now
And the nightmares have stopped
But people still manage to turn your whole mood around
Because they’re backwards
Upon entering high school
You realize common sense isn’t so common
You realize killing your brain cells is cool
But you don’t partake, so you keep walking
Because you think you’re better than that, because you can refrain
And then the wind blows again
And you remember that was you, just a different phase
Those were the “good ol’ days”
And then the final time the wind blows
The last time that little bit of water hits your face
You realize that everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve heard, and everything you know
Will come full circle, at any time and any place
And you realize that you are backwards
It’s the simple truth
It isn’t a metaphor
This world won’t give you anything
But condemn you for wanting more
For deciding it isn’t enough
Even if the country was built on the backs of your ancestors
They’ll tell you that it’s a “you problem” or “that’s tough”
Until the only memory that remains is of the white man, not your black brothers and sisters
But even they are backwards
Your brother suddenly decides to kill you one day
And your sister, despite being closer to you in age
Is the one that lies to you and ruins your birthday
But you don’t let them wreck your life or any other day
Because you have more to worry about
You have more to do, more to think, but nothing to say
Because the world won’t listen to you even if you shout
And even though it hurts bad and everything is mundane
You try to find peace in the silence
That is like a light a drizzle
Not hard or sad, not quite rain
The reality of it only hits you when the wind blows
So you try to find something to love you, a distraction
Even though you already know
All you’re looking for is addiction or attraction
But the things you’re addicted to run out
And the people who “love” you shut you out
So all you’re left with is the suicidal thoughts and the Depression you’re courting
But the wind blows again, and with it comes the reality that you’re only thirteen
And the thing about being thirteen
Is the middle of a quarantine
Where, in the midst of sickness and politics, people tell you to leave your home
But you’re afraid, crying, and–most of all–alone
But you can’t tell your family
Because you’ve been acting okay
Even though you’ve sobbed every night
And prayed for their survival every day
And now it’s gone
And you’re different now
And the nightmares have stopped
But people still manage to turn your whole mood around
Because they’re backwards
Upon entering high school
You realize common sense isn’t so common
You realize killing your brain cells is cool
But you don’t partake, so you keep walking
Because you think you’re better than that, because you can refrain
And then the wind blows again
And you remember that was you, just a different phase
Those were the “good ol’ days”
And then the final time the wind blows
The last time that little bit of water hits your face
You realize that everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve heard, and everything you know
Will come full circle, at any time and any place
And you realize that you are backwards
