It’s cold. When it all seemed fine and bold. Why does it have to be gloomy and fading but not what it could be doing? It sounded good, just good. How it felt to be whom I have chosen to be. Not to care ‘bout the norms was what it was to be. What I told myself to be. But when I look at what you have that should have been not yours, it made me feel ‘bout the norms.