I could be toxic, I could be clean,
I could be kind, or I could be mean,
I’ve no control over the way that I’m seen.
I could be your shiny metal man,
riding in on a white horse like a hero.
I could be the dragon breathing fire,
I could watch you burn, I could be Nero.
I could be a passing parking lot stranger –
you don’t have to remember my existence,
you don’t have to listen to my insistence
when your road is leading you into danger.
Breathe me in and out like oxygen,
but I don’t need you to need me for life,
cause I could be the needle, I could be the knife.
I could be antidote and poison, the same,
swallowing the whistle to salvage your name.
I could be your ruin or stepping stone
or some random girl in a shopping mall elevator.
You don’t have to care, I don’t have to be known.
I could be toxic, I could be clean,
I could be kind, or I could be mean,
I’ve no control over the way that I’m seen.
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