From a strict soul pride emerges
through the foul and common odious
we try to adjust for a fit.
Organized misfits defining us
trusted activists denied a pass
we still try to adjust for a fit.
Ensnared by a crucial conviction
almost an irreversible malediction
we fight hard for a fit.
As we say, "they failed to deliver,"
our skins feel the edge of a cleaver
but we don't cry out loud
because it'd mean we're less proud
of our origin, our unity and side
and we won't adjust to fit.