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You spend your days |
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At a dead end job |
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Where you just do |
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What you are told |
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And you come home |
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To an empty place |
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Fall asleep by the TV set |
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And on the weekend, |
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You get all drunk |
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Try to escape, |
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Till Monday comes |
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Why is it so we die just as copies |
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If it's so we're born originals |
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So it goes, so it lingers |
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While life is slipping |
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Through your fingers |
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And you're counting the days |
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As it seems |
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Without goals |
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And without dreams |
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Why is it so we die just as copies |
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If it's so we're born originals |
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Burn heart burn, |
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Yearn heart yearn |
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It's so sad, it's not a life |
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It's a storage of a man |
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And I'm not asking |
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For an easy time |
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But I'm asking |
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For a meaningful life |
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Why is it so we die just as copies |
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If it's so we're born originals |
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Burn heart burn, |
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Learn heart learn |
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Why is it so we're all replaceables |
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It's because we're all predictables |
