Why do I get such anxiety
when I compare myself
My only real goal’s to live life
so why can’t I just be?

I don’t need lots of money
it’s all gone when we die
I don’t need a nice car
it rusts in the end
And I don’t need a mansion
it’s just empty rooms with empty beds
So why can’t I see what I own
and be content

I mean look at the beauty of my life
I have a roof to sleep under at night
I have food to keep my stomach from strife
I have family to call on the phone
I have them close by when I need my home from home

So to hell with more money
to hell with luxury goods
to hell with these billboards
of how life can be “truly good”

But

Only if you have the right brands
of toothpaste, clothes, food, and jams
Only if you have the newest car
shipped straight from Japan
Only if you have a home
straight out of a Better Homes & Gardens ad

But

We buy these brands
and rage when we find
they bring no self-discovery
Only more **** to hide
with the rest of our crap
that we thought would leave us
satisfied

I’ll let you have your things
and struggle with the fake happy in them you hope to find
And I’ll sit here with my few things
and sigh the sigh
of a simple life