Maybe your view of quality is more than you can be 
You bear your ideology so stoically 
That all that you can see, is inferiority 
Here I am, my head in a cloud 
Can抰 you see my feet dangling, down there on the ground? 
I guess I抦 fool, cause 
I thought 
I could recognize 
The people who cared for me, 
I thought 
I could draw the line 
That surrounded my friends 
Oh I, I抦 not going to give up 
And I don't mind the quitters, so much as the thieves 
It抯 tolerable company, given the means 
I won't waste my time crying 
If I抦 the last to understand 
The difference between us, be it preference or circumstance 
I抦 losing the faith that youth hold in longevity 
I guess that抯 the price for bartering naivety 
Preferring the comfort that the skeptic takes in disbelief 
I抦 not going to give up