A Lyrical Interlude
Number On a Page
Copyright © 1990 by Eben Brooks
I woke this morning and I could not see the light
Went through the motions, too unthinking now to fight
Feels like I'm dying, I'm living just to earn my share
I want to get away but no one seems to care
There's nothing we can do for you, my lad
You're trying to claim a thing you never had
You're nothing but a digit in our files
We care about your wages, not your wiles
Don't bother with a purpose or a goal
You realize you do not have a soul
Don't listen to your parents or your school
We make the rules
Well, open up the door and let me out! I've had enough
This thing that you call freedom is just a silver-plated cage
I don't want to spend a life where no one gives a damn
About who I am, where I'm not a man
Just a number on a page
I heard my best friend quit his job and moved away
He plays in a band now, earning hundreds every day
While I punch my time-card and I sit behind my desk
Never quite brave enough, afraid to take the risk
Do you really think you're good enough to try?
Do you really think you're old enough to die?
Don't you really want to keep your sanity?
You don't really want your own identity
Take a number, wait in line, and you'll be served
All of this is really more than you deserve
Don't you worry 'bout the kind of life you'll lead
It's all you need
Well, open up the door and let me out! I've had enough
This thing that you call freedom is just a silver-plated cage
I don't want to spend a life where no one gives a damn
About who I am, where I'm not a man
Just a number on a page
Copyright © 1990 by Eben Brooks
I woke this morning and I could not see the light
Went through the motions, too unthinking now to fight
Feels like I'm dying, I'm living just to earn my share
I want to get away but no one seems to care
There's nothing we can do for you, my lad
You're trying to claim a thing you never had
You're nothing but a digit in our files
We care about your wages, not your wiles
Don't bother with a purpose or a goal
You realize you do not have a soul
Don't listen to your parents or your school
We make the rules
Well, open up the door and let me out! I've had enough
This thing that you call freedom is just a silver-plated cage
I don't want to spend a life where no one gives a damn
About who I am, where I'm not a man
Just a number on a page
I heard my best friend quit his job and moved away
He plays in a band now, earning hundreds every day
While I punch my time-card and I sit behind my desk
Never quite brave enough, afraid to take the risk
Do you really think you're good enough to try?
Do you really think you're old enough to die?
Don't you really want to keep your sanity?
You don't really want your own identity
Take a number, wait in line, and you'll be served
All of this is really more than you deserve
Don't you worry 'bout the kind of life you'll lead
It's all you need
Well, open up the door and let me out! I've had enough
This thing that you call freedom is just a silver-plated cage
I don't want to spend a life where no one gives a damn
About who I am, where I'm not a man
Just a number on a page