In this room there is a party
Of people like me
A critical mass
That's nothing without some kind of spark
We're back in London, England 1928
Doomed to repeat isolation
While a well of loneliness pervades
Now we've got that common language
To identify our pain
Each understand a toddler's lexicon,
But only use it to degrade
And we all wonder why we feel so alone
It's hard to feel right when we alienate
The ones we call home
I refuse to fucking recreate
Dichotomies of real and fake
What got us here in the first place
I refuse to participate
Expectations of ease, half-hearted praise
What got us here in the first place
Got a number of things to list off
In the grand scheme of growing off the binary
I check the records, dating back to some other time
I look for myself
I see it in your photographs
What was it like to only get to be yourself
In strips of film and black and white negatives?
One day they'll put your name on a ferry boat
Your home is now a monument
How radical just to document you exist
I refuse to fucking recreate
Dichotomies of real and fake
What got us here in the first place
I refuse to participate
Expectations of ease, half-hearted praise
That got us here in the first place
I don't suppose I'll ever know
What it means to be a man
That's something I can't change
I don't suppose I'll ever know
What it means to be a man
I'll live around it