EverChanging

No such thing as a final form

Who would guess that tides'll form

When I was born, inside the core

Of my chest rests a heart of diamond gold

So I've been told, growing up I had a 504

So when they told me I was special

They prolly meant special ed, man, I'm for sure

Never fit in with no crowd or group

Telling myself to stay grounded true

When I walk in, people look around the room

Before they go back to staring without a clue

Ask me why my hair is doused in blue