I'm wasting my money away,
Like its alive and running astray.
My first pay check disappeared,
Before they knew what they feared.
When I'm down and oppressed,
The one way I can still express,
That I'm myself, not any less,
Is to spoil myself with things in excess.
My mother clearly thinks I'm stupid,
That I'm only young and deluded.
And my father, with his selfish sneers,
Expects monetary repayment for a debt of 18 years.
So with their own uneducated impressions,
And their age-induced mindset regressions,
They give in to their control obsessions,
And provoke all my hidden depressions.
And when I can't make use of drugs,
Or feel the pleasure of lustful hugs,
The only thing I've left to do,
The only way to make it through,
Is spend and spend all that I can,
Use all what's left inside my hand,
Prove that all their reprimand,
Has no authority, gives no command.
Yet the only purpose for all this ridiculous strife,
Is to demonstrate that I'm the one who controls my life.
Hope you'll dig it. I know they're somewhat right, that it's stupid to waste my money, but it makes me feel less ******. It kind of eases the pain and pressure of feeling under-acknowledged as a human.