No, this won't be my life.
I promised myself yesterday at some ungodly hour
that just a small taste was enough.
I feel walls closing in on me,
trapping me in these ridiculous clothes,
I'm stuck behind a lifeless face,
repeating phrases like a robot without a soul.
Opportunity? No! Too easy.
Honest work? The boss comes off so sleazy.
Sorry to all of those who went on the clock,
followed the dress code,
and did what they were told,
so that I could have a home,
but it's a promise I've got to keep.
Being a ghost is usually all right,
and once or twice I even liked blending in.
But mostly I just watch,
seeing what's being done with the world,
and wonder what kind of God
would put His trust in these people.
I can't find how to say what I want to say,
feelings turn into muted words on the page.
Don't turn your ears, don't turn your back on me,
I swear my stuff's not all this boring,
I could be a genius, man!
Could you help to bring that out of me?
Don't pile all this c*** on me right now,
I can't take it all,
I'm just a spoiled little kid.
