We might be known for our glorified past,
How we went out and played real games outside.
And then time just flew so fast,
There are a lot of things, now, we can’t ride.

We grew up knowing society had rules.
TV said to study, go to college, and live happily.
But what unfolded before us is kinda rude,
A painful slap of some dose of a new bossoming reality.

As every generation may argue,
Ours may claim to be really confused.
Memories of bike rides and skies of different hues,
Rapidly changed by virtual abuse.

We still try to live authentic though,
Thinking wishfully that we can escape the Net.
Go to places, do things, go back and forth,
Brushing off every little regret.

But who’re we actually fooling?
The Net is inescapable,
Lose interconnectedness and you’ll cease existing,
A feeling that is plain horrible.

We’ll figure this out someday,
That’s what we tell ourselves,
But as we live each day,
We acknowledge that a little help wouldn’t hurt.