I watch from my desk,

I see how people live their lives,

I hear the people say they're the best,

They all brag about where they can drive,

But then there's me,

I have no money for their luxuries,

Yet they feel the need complain about their parent's greed,

And I just quietly laugh at how they're naiive,

I used to wish to have their riches,

I used to marvel at their money,

But now I'm glad I'm not friends with those bitches,

Who use each other, but not me,

The thought of me being one of them,

Makes me sick,

Even I wouldn't be that dim,

And my answers are always quick.