You complain.
You see his wasted life,
hear his angry words
and you condemn.
It was him.
Who taught your child that word...
It was him.
The twisted rumor that you heard...
It was him.
Who wrote that song...
It was him.
Philosophy so wrong...
You remember.
The kid in your school,
so much like him, so different...
and you condemned.
It was him.
Who dressed like that...
It was him.
Alone in the back...
It was him.
You called that name...
It was him.
You laid the blame...
Maybe it was you...
Maybe he took your words to heart...
Maybe you took his world apart...
Maybe all that was the start...
Maybe it was you
creating a monster.
Now you teach.
They see your life,
they hear your hateful words.
And it is them.
Who judge like you...
It is them.
Who share that view...
It is them.
Who will not understand...
It is them.
Who will tear down again..
Maybe it is them...
Maybe he’ll take their words to heart...
Maybe they’ll take his world apart...
Maybe this will be the start..
Maybe it was them
creating a monster.
Don’t judge the book.
Don’t fear the strange.
Don’t shun the child.
Don’t lay the blame.
Don’t bring the tears.
Don’t cut the wrists.
Don’t fire the guns.
Don’t clench the fists.
Don’t point the finger.
Don’t call the names.
Don’t bring the anger.
Don’t fan the flames.
Don’t do it,
you may be
creating a monster.
Now don’t complain.
See past his wasted life,
see past his angry words
and don’t condemn.
It was him.
Who felt the pain.
It was him.
Who cut the vein.
It was him.
Bleeding on the floor.
It was him.
Who Christ died for...
Cause maybe it was you...
Maybe he’ll take your words to heart...
Maybe you’ll see the broken part...
Maybe his life will finally start..
Maybe you could stop
creating a monster.