Watching Chameleons Turn to Fallen Parrots

On my back is a pack, I'm walking to school.
Staying in class trying to pass, I am no fool.
You never reap and in your sleep, you drool.
Complaining that your teachers are cruel.

Your friends are skipping class, probably searching for ass.
They get in a relationship with the most popular lass.
Me of all people know that it will never last.
To anything, they don't amass.

Die young, body identified by your parents.
Apparently you are parrot.
Copying your friends doesn't earn you merit.
You look like another parrot.
I bet you all died because what you wanted, you couldn't share it.
Declare it,
War.