Edited by Kiara Lakdawala
Yeah, you’re right, I'm wrong!
I’m two plus three equals six, when you were five,
I’m the tummy-against-surface, regret-for-life, flat dive
I’m the chorus of that monotonous, mind-numbing, old ass song,
Never got it right, did you? Yeah! Cause, I’m wrong!
I’m today’s brainwashed tipsy generation in grandpa’s eyes.
I am the two extra “I’llll bee fiiinee” shots on a Friday night
I'm your intoxicated kiss with her best friend at the prom,
And I’m you after that kiss. “I’m sorry, I was wrong!”
I'm the image of that corner girl in your class, who never speaks;
I'm a husband's point of view in an argument continued for weeks.
I am the mistake that you will never talk about life long,
I’m your decision to never talk about it ; I’m wrong!
I’m the measure of appropriateness from the other side,
I’m incorrect, unethical, blameworthy, the reason behind every crime.
I am the basis of every discussion, and I’m the purpose of a prolonged decision.
I make ethics and values what they are; I make them strong.
But wait, don't trust me! I might be wrong.
Animal abuse, terrorism, poverty, I’m all for it;
Drugs, pollution, and wars are my perfect fit.
They call me unemployed, racist and sexist sometimes.
I am all lost soldiers, and I am the reason they fight.
Maybe, this time I’m wrong.
Maybe...maybe this time I’m right.