This is a poem that should be sung, 
	on an angels lips on a rising sun
so that you might turn your head and see
	 just how much you care.

You see, judge me not
	because my hair is blue
Or that because I don't dress like you
	Or like your music
Or love your shoes
	Or fucking work or succeed like you.

This is a poem that should be sung, 
	on an angels lips on a rising sun
so that you might turn your head and see
	 just how much I care.

You could turn and die away
	But I'd never spend a day
In sweet remorse or daunting mourn
	Or crying till an early morn
Because you judged and didn't see
	Just how great I could be.

This is a poem that should be sung, 
	on an angels lips on a rising sun
so that you might turn your head and see
	 just how vain you are.

A house of mirrors
	And you'd never see
How plastic you turned out to be
	With hair bleached blonde
And teeth dyed white
	Or clothes too baggy, pre-worn, or tight
With necks that gleam
	And desginer shoes
You retract in horror as if you know
	What it was like to be your own
Or feel the pain
	Of reject or scorn

This is a poem that should be sung, 
	on an angels lips on a rising sun
so that you might turn your head and see
	 just how much I love.

I give and get
	And never regret
Just how good a person I met
	that she loves me
And my love is true
	That it would make you cry
If you could even dream of the love
	My heart holds for this person
And O' so boldly declare
	My heart is hers as is my soul.

So sing this poem
	From your lips if your an angel
And don't forget to sit atop
	The sun at dawn
And let the world turn
	And let them know my song.