On the road to riches and reputation, the speed limit is rising in automation
In turn heightening my necessitation to attain my assigned aspiration.
By this social federation I am taught only exploitation;
To follow this cancer of a nation when grow, grow, grow is their only motivation.
We’re running on fumes but continue to consume
That which we don’t have, gasoline is our perfume.
There is no room to bloom within a living tomb,
Strangling our dreams, soon we’ll start educating in the womb.
Trained from day one to be a soldier, to lift a boulder,
Over and over, up and down a hill, but we’re only gettin older
Our bodies aching like Sisyphus’ shoulder, and we’re
Never allowed to ask who’s holding the four leaf clover
But what if things aren’t what they seem?
What if this is only a result of C.R.E.A.M.?
What if life is about creating your own theme?
What if I threw away everything and made my own American Dream?
I wake up early in the morning, tube and net still giving warning,
Of the warring and the mourning and how the dark cloud ‘bove everyone’s ‘bout to start pouring.
I fortify my soul for the battle of today but my armor is rusty and my heart is full of dismay.
Still I obey, following the dust trail of those who followed the cliché.
Not knowing the destination but I’ve been trained to not to stray.
I hope I can make some headway in this painful fray.
I open my eyes wide, hopefully to find
That this dust will settle but it never declines.
Burning it is, but in their state of mind,
My eyes will be strengthened—I think I’m just going blind.
But what if things aren’t what they seem?
What if this is only a result of C.R.E.A.M.?
What if life is about creating your own theme?
What if I threw away everything and made my own American Dream?
I’m growing weary of this inhumane, arcane design of gain
Locked into a life in the fast lane, I dream of escape with cocaine and Mary Jane.
I want to sing to my own refrain but I’m constrained to this closed-minded domain;
Designed to detain my right and left brain for use in the next presidential campaign.
But I am, so therefore I will be, my own key to release the only true me.
Free from these first world problems I will be, left to pursue the only degree fit for me.
Happiness is the target I’m trained on now
My arrow will land home, I have made a vow
That paper, buildings nor flesh will disallow.
Because my love and my future family: I live for thou
But what if things aren’t what they seem?
What if I only pursue what I esteem?
What if I use my life to make my own regime?
I’m throwing away everything and creating my own American Dream.
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