People change in the blink of an eye,
and you gotta accept that.
Fact of my life:
suck it up,
I’m speaking to myself here.
But I look at the kids around me,
I want to be anywhere
but here with them.
I don’t want to succumb
to the chemicals that makes up their blend.
I don’t want to fall into this trap
they call trend,
and I don’t want to be known as one of their gen—
Wasted youth of the nation.
They ask us to inspire,
to change the world
with a flip of a tassel,
and a stark piece of paper.
They forget kids drain out whatever they don’t want to hear;
regardless if they need to.
Those are the kids other kids are taught to be like:
those are the kids other kids think are cool.
And I’m never going to feel like an adult with them around;
or maybe all I’ll feel like is an adult with them around.
a constant nurturing figure
holding their hair back as they expel all previous content
into some unknown person’s toilet,
or getting high off of whatever is being passed on in the line,
they don’t really care enough to decline,
all they think about are themselves and what will be
Ah, here we are.
Engulf yourselves in degradation.
But don’t expect indignation,
rather you hate the irritation that burns behind the eyes of those
who are looking at you like you’re headed straight for damnation.
you’re still saying, “To hell with it.”
are not my generation.
And if you are,
I was born some way,
Far, far away
from this altercation.