Self-fulfilling Catastrophe

words spoken monotones
There's violence in your pretty homes
Unfaded memories of the times we used to play
No colors anymore
There's laughter locked outside the door
The [bad word] go rolling by on the freeways just behind you

It's a self-fulfilling catastrophe
Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Watch your problems disappear
And then reappear as mine [bad word] take a look at me
I'm the poster boy for sympathy
I can't find my way out of this place I've spent my life

Some things we never tell
Looking back it's just as well [bad word] from anyone
frightened child with no place [bad word] Can you hear me calling out your name?
Calling out but nobody's there