Living in a world full of people trying to make it, unrequited, believing in a dream you need to be asleep to see and believe. Can you believe it? No, I don't just have a couple repeated words for your zombified mind. Sit down, stick around and listen awhile. Everything you see isn't always which it seems. Problems of the world become the product of the world. This is where the profits made, money towering from the sadness you think you've saved. Simply donate a buck, whatever you can and never see it again. Still the stories of ******, suicide and the great divides carry on to keep you scared in your homes where you spend your days dreaming of what you could be, what would've been and what you should've done. Everything's alright. Everything's ok. Everyone's alone screaming for connection on the radio can't you hear their sad song but all you want to do is sing along. Still fading away, escaping what we're too scared to face, because we have our fancy cars, and our hip jeans, in our knee high leather boots, downing our premium aged poisons, and living our plastic prosthetic dreams. There is no poverty. There is no war. There are no deaths. We simply want more, more lies, more fight, more blood and more *** to keep us wanting more love, more hate, more loneliness down the road, we make until we can take no more and we're looking into the hole of a .45, pray Jesus lord and blast our brains in an old beat up FORD. This is not a negative broadcast, this is reality trying to reach you, trying to teach you to see that it begins with me, me who wants what he cannot obtain, me who loves but hates at the moment of change, me who wants to belong but does everything to stay far away, me who cannot forgive because the emotional pain is too much to feel again. It is truly a hard concept life. This material world. These material boys and girls. Draping on whatever extra layers they can to gain attention, to be a little more accepted yet it is who, themselves, they cannot love because who, we strangers, they cannot impress like their idols they so obsessively crave and praise