Preasures of a hundred pounds Crashing down in my life Technicalities, realized fallacies Fuel the fire of my strife How do I know which path I'll walk? Mental freedom, it's all talk So many possibilites Yet my life has been foreseen How many fucking years? Until I'm a real human being Because every fucking movement Is just a petty routine Out of my reach Out of my hands I wake up everyday Just to fill your demands 24 more just waiting for the next Looking foreward to something Wasted, just like all the rest Whose life do I live? I want it back! I'm taking it back