Please don't do anyting to understand the  frustration of my generation

Take your pleading eyesa and heartfelt lullabys elsewhere

Can't you tell our music is blasting too loud for us to hear your beckoning calls?

The notes of sympathy come off as pity to those who had it all

And to the ones left in the dark, they wanted it to stay that way

Your puryifying holy candles burn through our flesh

Just as you claim you will do your best for the rest of us

We hear the stampede of uniform tackle us into defeat

We try to grip onto our false sense of reality

But it is no use against the needles injecting our blood with a distraught land filled with impossibilites

As we shut our eyes adn let the world melt away

I wonder to myself, how long will it be?

How long do I wait until these songs are sung to me?