There's a motor in me in need of oil.
It grinds and squeaks,
Like a turn table.
My gears are rusted and have stopped turning.
My brain is down and needing a surgeon.
There's no way to win when you live in doubt.
If it came down to it,
Who would you ****?
Who would you save?
Who would you allow to operate?
When will you switch out my batteries,
So I can move away?
When will I be able to detach from the puppet master's fingers?
I'm sick of this way of living, living by their rules.
Everyday obeying and going to school.
My life was simple without all this tech junk,
But now I'm on it 24/7 and I can't seem to get enough.