Whose gun is at your head?
Tomorrow I graduate,
And feast on my heart; they're giving it back.
Only small parts though...
Freedom is not exactly free.
As I tick through a day that doesn't feel
R. E. A. L.
I'll remember a time when eating clocks
Was a delight
And night never came
Because time never sung.
But what will tomorrow bring?
The final burst of detrimental metaphors and acidic teachers egos,
Who depend on a pay package
"Not enough" for their knowledge.
They should've stayed human.
I wince as the cogs twist
And an ever continuing robotic system
Chomps down on thousands of more souls.
And I beg for new a freedom.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:44 AM UTC
Whose gun is at your head?
Tomorrow I graduate,
And feast on my heart; they're giving it back.
Only small parts though...
Freedom is not exactly free.
As I tick through a day that doesn't feel
R. E. A. L.
I'll remember a time when eating clocks
Was a delight
And night never came
Because time never sung.
But what will tomorrow bring?
The final burst of detrimental metaphors and acidic teachers egos,
Who depend on a pay package
"Not enough" for their knowledge.
They should've stayed human.
I wince as the cogs twist
And an ever continuing robotic system
Chomps down on thousands of more souls.
And I beg for new a freedom.
A revamped version of one sentence and a whole lot of mind ***** I'm scared for tomorrow.
