Then again, it’s not that funny
Modern discomforts, to give it a name.
Just another box.
These products and processes
Just another pox.
And everything’s been said,
And there’s nothing I can do
And I don’t leave time for
breathing the air–or looking for love.
‘Cause everything is wrong.
It’s all that I hate.
It’s so unfair.
Yet things still grow,
And places I haven’t been, that I could go
while standing here aches and makes the ankles swell;
Just another cave.
So I recline and stare (like every other cog)
Just another grave.
Meanwhile, there’s life-lovin’ livin’ to get done!
…and I’m sitting here
by myself–missing it.
I’m tired of dyin’ here–so far from you
Just another day.
On this winding path, walls to rivers
Just another way.