Chest puffed out, your nose in the air. You think yourself fancy, but we don’t really care.
Skitter around, chittering in every available ear. You tell them what they’ve always wanted to hear.
“Be this, look like that, our group is the bees knees.” “They don’t know, they don’t fit, off by many degrees.”
Telling them they are the chosen, the elite. Sadly, measuring up-they will never complete…
your demands, your lies you tell. We know they come straight from the pit of hell.
Pride, you go too far, we know who you are.
Pride, at times, you get the best of us all. If only we could remember, after you, always come fall.