[Verse 1]
In the back of the cla**room he sits, waving his fists
Running his mouth, distracting all the other kids
Not to mention how he never pays attention to his teacher's lesson
And she has had enough of it
She labels him a space cadet when really he's just bored
And given any kind of test he gets the highest scores
But she's a**ured he's a trouble maker
So she sends him down to have a face to face with the counselors
They try to narrow him down. He's on a larger scope
Throw him in with a crowd of slackers, clowns, and dopes
But none of these describe his personality
Because the powers that be are all a f**ing joke
Because every time they try to listen to the boy they get annoyed
And the more he acts out the more he gets ignored
Send him to doctors and therapists to silence the noise
No second thoughts about how his imagination's destroyed
[Hook]
(Your head is in the clouds)
I just want to live while I'm alive
So I spend my time
Flying high
And you'll never shoot me from the sky
Never shoot me from the sky
(Your head is in the clouds)
My body's sinking while my mind flies
Ready aim fire I'm
Flying High
But you'll never shoot me from the sky
Never shoot me from the sky
[Verse 2]
Send him to doctors and therapists to silence the noise
Feed him feelings that he's broke instead of feeding him poise
Whatever happened to boys will be boys?
They'd rather give him medication than give him a choice
His voice retreats into the shelter of his room
Alone he unleashes it over his favorite tune
Far removed from judgmental ears he faces his fears making his mental immune
To all the bullsh** fed to him to keep him still
Sinners on the pulpit telling him they mean him well
Bowing to religion, submission is what they're trying to sell
But he never buys it, the fire inside him burns like hell
So if his body burns, oh well
At least he'll go up in smoke like Cheech and Chong
The whole system is a joke and teaches wrong
That's why he never listens when they try to tell him
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Take a pill the size of a pillow and shove it down his throat
Bristly as a brillow washing his mind with soap
Best of intentions undoubtedly hoped
But in reality it's more like a murder she wrote
Because to those doctors and therapists that silenced the noise
Personality was a casuality they couldn't avoid
Whatever happened to boys will be boys?
They'd rather give him medication than give him a voice
[Hook]