You’re stuck in mediocrity
I’m stuck in my hypocrisy
A poverty of properties
Not hercules not socrates
But it’s a democracy
But we have commodities
So gimme gimme honesty
Gimme gimme policies
A mockery economy
Built on colonies
Property of the lottery
Property of monopoly
But I have my parties
don’t think about atrocities
Just be in monotony
I don’t care, my apologies
And I’m buried in cacophony
but within the c-coffin, me.
But suddenly and audibly
I’m feelin’ hearin’ prosody
Processing frivolity,
impossibly the animosity of lethargy
softens me, sedentary
My apology.
VERSE 2
Read the news, I’m astounded
Not quite sure, we’re just roundin’
A hundred or two hundred thousand
What’s one life, or a dozen?
Declare war
objectives messy.
Pride and money,
like Walt and Jesse?
Can’t do nothing, don’t address me.
Block out the wails, won’t hear the banshee.
Early early it’s 2:30
in the mornin’ my lack of sleep
because I just cannot keep
up with the studying I haven’t done yet
is it even worth it, haven’t even started
but I’m so exhausted from it.
so exhausted from it.
I’m obsessed with the A
I mean the list and the grade
Hole up and study for days
Look up up up Tina Fey
And while our world is ablaze
I’m in an Internet daze
A generation in a haze
A decayed decade.
What do you do? Not shit, do you?
Armchair activist, a like or two.
Copy this, don’t know what I miss.
All I know, ignorance is bliss.
Scrutinize, eulogize--
how you want me to revolutionize?
I can use my eyes, I can humanize,
but what you want me to utilize?
So you just call me cynical
For every single sin I call
out. It’s unpredictable
this world, it’s inexplicable.
you know it’s unforgiveable,
but you tell me it’s typical
despicable, not fixable
I can’t perform no miracles
Stuck in mediocrity
Stuck in my hypocrisy
Keep spewing the right facts-a
Keep sight on the right track-a
Gotta, gotta adapt-a
Keep on moving faster,
Don’t let no one be your master
No one be your master
Keep on keeping your face
You gotta run to stay in place
You do abide by the Red Queen
You think she know what she mean
But Alice, a fallacy?
No malice, but you fail to see
It’s all from biology
It’s still possible to break free
VERSE 3
But a word is just the surface
Find my way in this circus.
Dystopic, Anthony Burgess
And I’m nervous, nervous, nervous.
And I’m guilty
I’m not using my abilities
make clean what is filthy
make good what is cruelty
And I’m writing these verses
Not an argument, not versus
you or me, just observe is
what I ask. What’s your purpose?
Ignorant and distant.
I feel now, the future in the instant.
Is it bliss? Is it?