|
On your knees, look at yourself, a corporation cog with a head |
|
No original thought, a product of things, that consume your will, and define your dreams |
|
When you were young, you took on the world, remember how you'd laugh and sing? |
|
You've replaced it all with an IRA, internet porn, and a job you hate |
|
Spectator on your own life |
|
Watching and cheering goodbye |
|
Sinking into endless night |
|
Serving your slave design |
|
Giving in without a fight |
|
Passion resonates no more |
|
A goal that never comes in sight |
|
Til they close the coffin door |
|
Fenced-in yard, that screen on your wall, books on the shelf, you never have read, |
|
Suburban right turns, amassing your wealth, a middle-class pawn, in love with himself |
|
Lock the doors, set the alarm, another weekend, alone in your head |
|
The kids are out drunk, the wife's in bed, pop a few pills to forget again |
|
Spectator on your own life |
|
Watching and cheering goodbye |
|
Sinking into endless night |
|
Serving your slave design |
|
Giving in without a fight |
|
Passion resonates no more |
|
A goal that never comes in sight |
|
Til they close the coffin door |
|
Inside your homemade prison, an average life lived and died |
|
Rules deftly followed |
|
Boss' ass, firmly kissed |
|
Bound in by possessions |
|
...And overpowering emptiness |