Four Fingers
The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street
The saddest part of living life is all the lies we choose to make
With no discrimination to those we love and hate
Self-preservation looking out for number one
But life crashes down when the web is spun
Don’t tell me who to be
I refuse to be a drone of society
Conditioned to failure running through the generations
Cut shaped and molded by self-degredation
Taught to obey as to be left alone
Answers to every question are assumed to be known
Don’t tell me who to be
I refuse to be a drone of society
Adaptation through the ages
Cultural revelations
Emancipate and liberate
Become autonomous agents
From Letras Mania