dont feel obliged by life, it'll ruin you.
All right, so I wake up not asking or wondering where I am,
Dress, eat, piss, doing everything I need to do before I scoot off to school.
Listening to my father babble the lecture of life in the car,
I try to listen to his psychobabble wondering why I feel so bizarre,
But my train of thought exceeds his by far.
So when I wake up in the car outside of my school,
I know for a fact that he’s a tool and that the people in my school are cruel,
No matter who rules or duels, it doesn’t matter so long as I keep my cool.
But even as I slip back into reality and out of my irreality,
I’ll figure through my mentality the totality of my peers’ brutality,
And notice that all of their moralities have become formalities,
And those formalities have dualities leaving me at a neutrality between,
Being a kid and a society-pleasing-calculating-machine,
Both of which leave me lean, clean, and seventeen,
But one makes me scene and a total routine teen a total reusable teen,
Where as being obscene and unseen I know that the world isn’t perfectly serene.
Classes one and two pass like cars on the highway, abiding the speed limit without a cause,
They flyaway on the superhighway, riding and gliding, as well as sliding and colliding,
And my mind disappears from certain tragedy and fears.
Eleven thirty passes and all of the masses leave their classes in search of attention in which they can relieve their tension.
By eleven thirty five, school starts looking like a click convention,
Scene over there, preps and gangsters over yonder, rockers and such out there, while the others subside to the library, but me and my friends play hackey sack where ever we please.
From convention to confusion in a moments notice, all hell breaks loose while my mind folds into a lotus.
Preparing and devising my thoughts for the next classes, I stop wondering and thinking and begin my sleeping.
And by the time I know it, the class is over and the room is half empty,
So out the door and onto the bus, to the station, to the metro bus and to my home,
All of it seems like minutes to the next when really its 2 hours on end of each other.
Dress, eat, piss, doing everything I need to do before I scoot off to school.
Listening to my father babble the lecture of life in the car,
I try to listen to his psychobabble wondering why I feel so bizarre,
But my train of thought exceeds his by far.
So when I wake up in the car outside of my school,
I know for a fact that he’s a tool and that the people in my school are cruel,
No matter who rules or duels, it doesn’t matter so long as I keep my cool.
But even as I slip back into reality and out of my irreality,
I’ll figure through my mentality the totality of my peers’ brutality,
And notice that all of their moralities have become formalities,
And those formalities have dualities leaving me at a neutrality between,
Being a kid and a society-pleasing-calculating-machine,
Both of which leave me lean, clean, and seventeen,
But one makes me scene and a total routine teen a total reusable teen,
Where as being obscene and unseen I know that the world isn’t perfectly serene.
Classes one and two pass like cars on the highway, abiding the speed limit without a cause,
They flyaway on the superhighway, riding and gliding, as well as sliding and colliding,
And my mind disappears from certain tragedy and fears.
Eleven thirty passes and all of the masses leave their classes in search of attention in which they can relieve their tension.
By eleven thirty five, school starts looking like a click convention,
Scene over there, preps and gangsters over yonder, rockers and such out there, while the others subside to the library, but me and my friends play hackey sack where ever we please.
From convention to confusion in a moments notice, all hell breaks loose while my mind folds into a lotus.
Preparing and devising my thoughts for the next classes, I stop wondering and thinking and begin my sleeping.
And by the time I know it, the class is over and the room is half empty,
So out the door and onto the bus, to the station, to the metro bus and to my home,
All of it seems like minutes to the next when really its 2 hours on end of each other.