We live in a world
Where we can't live without jewels,
We were trained
To be overworked money churning machines,
And to let our dreams be held down by pins.
Wall Street was the aim
Poetry was just too lame
And Music was pretty much the same.
"That ain't gonna pay the bills"
"It can't even buy you meals"
"Be realistic! This is your Future!"
Yet these were the same people that once said "The world is your oyster".
Now, I am stuck at this crossroad
On onse side I see zombies parading in suits
On the other side I see dreamers strutting
With no money in their hand
But with happiness no dollar bills can send
Even the angels and demons
Are no longer whispering
Cause this decision is only mine to bring
Is it the dream?
Or the money making mundane routine?