Penal Colony Product
Young and indoctrined
Pampered and sheltered
Amputation from sleep
A crash from the outside
Carefully groomed trees
The police have come home
Walking through the bad decisions
The drunken phone calls
I shouldn't have heard
Straining for solace
My only diversion is a cul-de-sac
And a borderline belting
Me Generation
Now you've got a product
And the product is me
Free thinking user
Lower your suture
Now look what you've got
Me
Fear and loathing
The angst that is unknown
Waiting for my turn to come
He's throwing in portraits
Damning the offspring
Coming on in monolithics
I waver above as my body reels and bruises and moans on the floor
Bones break open, I say nothing
The pain, it lingers like chain-smoke breath
Trust
Kiss it good-bye
Deal with the memory
Rise above it
