I m one of those things you ll save foreverbut never need.

Like an old newspaper no one has time to read

This child has grown into a dead end

Since i lost the power to pretend

But it s all rightthat s who i am inside

Not much to say on this non-toxicordinary day

That s no superhero standing right in front of us

So take this pocket full of kryptonite and beat it back to metropolis

There s only room for one on this microphone

In my finest hour i m still alone

But old news can changeas memories float downstream

So don t judge me by my failuresonly by my dreams.

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