They glide like wraiths, they move and weave
Through city streets and crowded dance floors
With poise and with purpose, they shock and unnerve us
Pretending to be everything we are asked to be
They belong, they are the zeitgeist, they are the sign of the times
They fit in, they are chameleons, they are illusions, nothing more
Raining to the beat of the band, they blend
Just like ingredients in a recipe that I can’t stand
They just pass me by, I don’t buy the lie
Because I see right through them, see right through them
They laugh and drink like nothing’s wrong
You see they’re meant to be wherever they are
They’re one individual, its presence residual
A veil of subterfuge we all fail to see
They belong, they are the zeitgeist, they are the sign of the times
They fit in, they are the joiners, they are the Belonging Kind