Seems like there’s a conspiracy

All designed to make me associate

Happiness with commodities

And i hate the fact that only an addiction

Can trigger my creativity

Off for a maintenance of me

I’m exactly what i seem

All used up and ready to give in

Losing protons at every hello

I’m sick of drugs

And how nothing else

Allows me to have

A proper conversation

Lovers will appeal for caffeine

And immigrants rely on chloramine

I’m sick of chemistry

And i fear it might never get away

Off for a maintenance of me

I’m exactly what I seem

Everyday i feel like a carbon waste

Losing protons at every hello