Me, and my helmet such an un-conventional kid, All intense and kinetic, at best tolerated from afar.
Not yet arrested, and by that I mean betrothed, though a start I am newly courted, I've just not been trusted with alters.

I'm a sweet piece of work, well intentioned yet disturbed, wrongly label-ed and under-fed, treated like a rose as an orchid.

My friends, as they weigh in, get understandably protective, They have a hard time being objective, So inside we cancel each other out.

I'm a sweet piece of work, well intentioned and unloved, unlabeled and misunderstood, treated like a rose as an orchid.

You've brought water to me, making sure my bloom rebounds, you know best of what my special care allows.

So I've lived in my blind spot, thought myself usual when I'm not and your garden is a nice spot, as long as it is brave and where you are.
For this sweet piece of work, high maintenance and deserted, I've been different and deserving, treated like a rose as an orchid.

Sweet piece of work, overwhelmed un-observed, I've been bowed down to but so misread. treated like a rose as an orchid.

- Alanis