everybody looks at me and thinks I should be sad.

But I don't care what they think, I'm not feeling bad.

Yes I know that he is gone.

I won't cry and wine and moan.

When I think of him I have to smile.

Then I talk about him for a while.

People always ask, "Why don't you cry?"

and I just have to ask them, "Why?"

He was never sad, but was always happy.

So even though he died, why can't I be?

Everyone just has to be a critic,

and have to tell me all this shit.

I can do this one my own,

why don't you just leave me alone?

Try to rate me one more time,

and you won't ever see that sun shine.

I don't like being told what to do,

so you can go cry, "boo hoo".

try to rate me again,

you won't know how to count from 1 to 10.

I am not a movie to see,

I am not going to be anyone but me!

I am not some book to be read.

You must have something wrong with your head!

You ask me why I am so angry,

you ask me why I am so mad.

You ask me why I just don't cry,

and all I have to say is, "You're dumb critics, that's why!"