Life's an open-heart surgery, and
I'm the guy who hands implements to the doctor.
I'm acted upon,
and when I try to act,
to be proactive,
more often than not,
I get shut down.
I seek a life of power,
of prestige, of meaning something
because in this existence,
I mean nothing.
I went to my old middle school-
they couldn't remember my name.
Fuck you. When I discover some new
theory of society or human relationships,
and you don't even remember that I attended
your school, it'll be your loss.
I'm shouting, but, even in a silent room, unheard.
I fight, yet my sword is soft and surrender swift.
I love, or would like to, if I could take my feet off
the ground and my hands from my pockets.
I preach about living life, being free, chainless.
I'm no Rousseau. These chains? I made them, each
time I neglected to speak my mind or embrace my heart.
I'm sinking in my own insecurities. It's pathetic.
Ridiculous.
This is MY roller coaster,
MY molehill zeniths and hellish pits.
MY fucking life.
I say I will, but never do.
WHY CAN'T I LIVE IT?
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