They crush your dreams
To better themselves.
Given the credit
Of Santas elves.
They bar the windows,
And they lock all the doors.
They call the men deliquents,
And they label women ******
Into this world we're thrown
In a direction without our choice.
Whats the point of speaking
When you havent got a voice.
They sit you row by row,
And they all pretend to care.
But as soon as they know your secret
All they can do is stare.
Art is for the artistans,
And the music is for the gifted.
Dont try, you'll never do it,
Anything but keep you lifted.
Before Im in the coffin
And they hammer the last nail.
I'll get out with good behavior,
And then I'll go back to jail.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
They crush your dreams
To better themselves.
Given the credit
Of Santas elves.
They bar the windows,
And they lock all the doors.
They call the men deliquents,
And they label women ******
Into this world we're thrown
In a direction without our choice.
Whats the point of speaking
When you havent got a voice.
They sit you row by row,
And they all pretend to care.
But as soon as they know your secret
All they can do is stare.
Art is for the artistans,
And the music is for the gifted.
Dont try, you'll never do it,
Anything but keep you lifted.
Before Im in the coffin
And they hammer the last nail.
I'll get out with good behavior,
And then I'll go back to jail.
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