I was born 1992
And lived amongst the small minded, worker class
Soon to become a brat
Lying and trying my way through every mess
I still don’t know what starvation feels like
And I haven’t suffered from war
But there lingers a rage inside me
Upset by desires that defined me
Oh how beautiful this life must be
Break the cycle
To live the life I got pitched
Feel bad for what you miss
The only way to success is to be the best
Or keep on grindin‘ like the fuckin‘ rest
Get a little home
Maybe a red car or should it be blue
What am I talking about, your wife decides, men do not have a clue
You are what makes a family prosper
Not the one who does it foster
Never will you foster
You will always be the clumsy logger
In another fathers forest
To another fathers daughter
And so I grew
Not into an adult
But into two
The small minded worker brat
Against the megalomaniac
Without anyone to condone
I began to torture thoughts and ideas of my own
Began to torture my own
Can you see the future?
Me neither
Bombs should explode when they hit the ground
I’m more like a bomb that leaves no trace, no sound
The crater is there, but nothing else to be found
Nothing else to be found
A bomb that hurts their own
Like blindly thrown
Break the cycle
To live the life I got pitched
Feel bad for what you miss
The only way to success is to be the best
Or keep on grindin‘ like the fuckin‘ rest
multiverseofwords 