It's all a big lie
That's how I feel.
It's all a big lie
What's the deal?

I was born in a country unrich.
Filled with people, happy and poor.
Children running on the dirt, their clothes made from stitch.
Such was life, in the heat, yearning for the clouds to pour.

Now i see the cars, and the purses, and the toys.
and the people who love them
there's nothing there but material,
how can i tell them?

Why value such things?
Have they not been told?
Nevertheless, they are trapped.
Doing all these chores...

What bothers me the most, is they dont have to be told.
For all this time, they've already known.

What a startling realization it is, what a scare,
it seems to me,
they simply.
don't
care.