A Day Worth Running From

Everyday, when I wake up in the morning,
I dread the day ahead when I have to deal with the world.
Oh, the gleeful loneliness of the path I tread,
Veins, ice cold but red,
But I'll never give an inch of my own turf,
No, never, not even on the day of my demise.
They say all little boys should play with the other children,
That that is the way to salvation and fun,
But all I see is a day worth running from.

Well, what do you know but the sky is blue,
And that means, of course, the sun's out, too.
I just think that's disgusting to have to face,
You know what I mean?
I beseech the matter around to let me be.
But, it's all for wrought, and I'll never be free,
Free to make this a day worth running from.

People who pathetically claim to be my friends
Want my attention, but I must say, "No,
No more games for us, dear acquaintances,
Just be gone. Be gone."
I like the confines of my room,
Not all that outside doom and gloom,
The damnation of the outside exposition.
So, if you are from the outer limits of space,
I'll never let you see my face,
Because this is a day worth running from.