We have so much and care so little. We’re feeling robbed of what we were.
We sing the tunes of lonely acquisition and cover nakedness by staying bare.
We give our kisses to the prettiest of frogs. We fly on carpets weaved without Aladdin.
We love our enemies and treat our loves like shit… show off our knowledge. Not the one we study.
We are too easy to impress and yet we never get excited. We try to be all places and at once.
We often come, when we are uninvited. We go clubbing, but we skip a dance.
We fear nothing. But we stay PC. Correctness comes from feeling comfort.
Yet comfort is the one we seek through pain. At times without laughter.
We fuck like rabbits, eat like wolfs. We swim like dolphins, flying, like an eagle.
And then we crawl all over broken glass, while trying to be hip and regal.
We cry and hope. We brag, while boasting. We wipe our tears dry to feel detached.
We hate our lives, and we stay coasting. We stay plugged in and out of touch.
We are so free. And yet we need too much, to feel like we need very little.
We search for love nonstop, avoiding it and staying noncommittal.
We search, we strive, we try, we fall. We cheer on and fall exhausted.
We live our lives, and who’s to say we’re wrong?
But let’s be honest. Have we lost it?