[Disassembled]
A member of the disassembled youth,
With nothing more than bad habits,
Used to sedate and find inner truth.
Not the life one can choose, but it's,
Too easy to quit now after this long.
Nothing explains God's own intuition,
Leaving so many lives horribly wrong,
Against the odds of rational decision.
Fate lies in his hands while we float,
Helplessly down a stream of society,
Trying not to drown all of our hope,
In a cold, shallow, dangerous reality.
Very few will ever know the feeling,
Many more will only pretend they do,
They will never spend a life kneeling,
Praying for light to guide them through.
Tomorrow will be crueller then today,
The struggle must be abandoned soon,
If we lose any more reason to stay,
And let our tears and frustration loom.
We are not here to play in your game,
And we refuse to become your slave,
Disregard the money, material or fame,
These scars will follow us to the grave.
We don't want you to suggest the past,
Even if it is a better chapter then this,
The good memories know how to last,
Giving us some sort of warrant to live.
The feelings are getting too common,
And roads are coming to a dead end,
Only one set of gates needs to open,
To make it all worth while once again.
We are one group strong, entwined,
With a damaged or missing identity,
Everything we accomplish is defined,
With our faith, dignity and serenity.
God may have forgotten we existed,
Or maybe it is a type of human irony,
But there is a meaning amongst this,
It will unfold slowly just like poetry.
=john=
With nothing more than bad habits,
Used to sedate and find inner truth.
Not the life one can choose, but it's,
Too easy to quit now after this long.
Nothing explains God's own intuition,
Leaving so many lives horribly wrong,
Against the odds of rational decision.
Fate lies in his hands while we float,
Helplessly down a stream of society,
Trying not to drown all of our hope,
In a cold, shallow, dangerous reality.
Very few will ever know the feeling,
Many more will only pretend they do,
They will never spend a life kneeling,
Praying for light to guide them through.
Tomorrow will be crueller then today,
The struggle must be abandoned soon,
If we lose any more reason to stay,
And let our tears and frustration loom.
We are not here to play in your game,
And we refuse to become your slave,
Disregard the money, material or fame,
These scars will follow us to the grave.
We don't want you to suggest the past,
Even if it is a better chapter then this,
The good memories know how to last,
Giving us some sort of warrant to live.
The feelings are getting too common,
And roads are coming to a dead end,
Only one set of gates needs to open,
To make it all worth while once again.
We are one group strong, entwined,
With a damaged or missing identity,
Everything we accomplish is defined,
With our faith, dignity and serenity.
God may have forgotten we existed,
Or maybe it is a type of human irony,
But there is a meaning amongst this,
It will unfold slowly just like poetry.
=john=