I'm not even in yet, but soon I'll go out
To face my firing squad, and my doubts.
Sidelong glances from snide eyes explain
Exactly what's wrong with my heart and my brain.
I guess I could change; I guess I could hide;
I guess I could freeze up until I can't think,
But I was born in a snowbank, and raised in the Arctic.
They'll never scare me inside.
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