American Gaullist trapped in a bubble
Tryna pull himself out the rubble
Can't find the "I" or the "why" in collectivism
Push and push and push has always been the mission
Broken man crying out in the night time
Wondering when the fuck is it my time?
Visions and promises of a life of splendor
Don't you feel a little bit misled?
It's quiet in the street
We all have gone to sleep
The waters getting high
There's no will left to fight
And it won't go away!
The pounding in your brain
Another endless day
Another dept to pay
Did you really think that you'd win the rat race?
Do you miss all of the things that you displaced?
The dream cannot be dead if it never existed
It's arrogance that you call will
It's not what they have it's what they steal!
It's not what you're told it's how you feel!
It's not what you've been it's what you make!
It's not who you are it's what you hate!
It's quiet in the street
We all have gone to sleep
The waters getting high
There's no dark without light