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