I saw the minds of my generation,
Sickened with conformity.
Vice creatures entered their heads
And a same voice.
Individuals reduced to sheep,
Coated in shiny colored fiber.
Equally wishful of the happy ending
Which will be provided by a 9 to 5
And the constraint to a business cage.
"Thy shall honor thy parents"
NOT at the cost of my happiness.
Drunken inherited dreams
Are not the fuel that drives me forward;
For that I pity my peers,
Themselves forced to move their hands
To the rhythm of money they never see.
Dance, bureaucrat, dance.
For life's value is subjective
And in your eyes
It is worth the minimum wage.