Problem

I am a problem
Because I look at you
And point out problems
I see the world and I see problems
I want things to be better
But I remind you of your imperfections
And my imperfections
I bring you down
So far now you don’t want to help me out
I’m dyin’
I’m sighin’
I’m trying to forget
my criticism yet
My trying is lying
And causing you to fret
You too ought to forget

Or you’ll be a problem
As I am a problem
To the world you’ll be a stain
for pointing at their shame
You’ll be the one they blame
In your death you’ll find the fame,
the name that you always wanted
not as you always wanted
You’ll be dirtier than dirt
Your face, they’ll want to hurt

You’ll sigh and die
Yes, die a little death
in trying to forget these criticisms
that brought you problems

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Notes

Criticism is rough. We need it. It hurts. It helps. It can feel like death. Saying what folks really don't want to hear really could get you killed. This song is about the feeling of being in the minority when you challenge accepted "truths" held by those you love as well as by those you don't.
 

 
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