The Myth of Hapiness

So fucking late

I am so fucking late

So many things to see

Reality is softer through an lcd screen

Rigged Esthetics and fucking capitalistic dreams

All seem in my reach

Damn I should be flying, floating amongst the stars

My wings are spread and flapping but it’s just too hard

Sun is far, why is the wax already melting, drooling down ?

Lost in this maze, I gaze up to the Milky Way

My ego goes up and down twerking on this symphony

I'm a bird, I'm a plane, I'm a god, now I'm sucked back to mediocrity

How can I be so weak? I'm a piece of art

Sadness has no price for everything else there’s MasterCard

But it's all possible; all accessible

I won't be another sad clown in this circus

But it's all possible, so fucking buyable

Sculpted in silicone anyone can stand on Mount Olympus

In Walmart I trust

It’s just a race for the newest grail

I'll put my lips to each cup, to every vase

I'll pull out the blade

Holy syrup running through my veins

Modern slaves have no fucking chains, I’m in debt