They say that your destiny
Is at your feet, just waiting,
Waiting to be seized.
They say that you have
A great future, the many
Things that you will do.
But if you really think
About it, they all have a
Plan in their own minds:
A mold that they are
Preparing, you are the
Wax, waiting for any of
Them to shape you.
Wait just a minute!
I am the one that is
Supposed to have the
Destiny, but you don't
Care unless it fits into
Your scheme for me.
What happened to my
Ideas, my plans, my dreams?
What if I want no part
Of your manipulating schemes?
Time for a reality dose,
And, yes, reality bites,
Especially when your
Timid pet thinks for itself.
You can't hold reality captive
So, get out of your delusion.
When it's time, I'll do what
I want to do, not be busy
Filling your mold.
Molds break.
Paradigms shatter.
Stereotypes snap.
Puppets pull their own
Strings if you don't
Look away.
You only see
What you want to see,
So, you might as well get
Your eyes off me.
My dreams don't meet
Any of your grand schemes,
But, since I'm nice,
I'll give you a choice:
You can either support
Me, the real me, all
The way, or you can
Move off the tracks and
Get out of my way.
Whether you like it or
Not, this wax, this clay,
Has decided to mold itself.
