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The man who lives beside me
wants to set the world on fire,
Iâd worry more about it, but I know that heâs a liar.
The people across the street
have moved their TV set outside,
They want the world to understand,
theyâve nothing much to hide.
It feeds the seed in me.
I wander down the street
to get a taste of morning air,
A snarling dog comes after me, Awakened from itâs lair.
The outside world has turned on me,
I see it in their eyes,
I guess Iâll stay inside for now until they realize,
Itâs time for them to see.
They live their lives in a haze,
Like rats, theyâre caught in a maze,
Of quiet desperation and obedience,
I know that Iâm just the same.
I need a chance to be free,
These darkened walls are killing me.
If I could rise above, then Iâd see,
The light beyond the trees.
The houses on this street were built
all facing the same way,
The architect slept well at night for heâd collect his pay.
Perhaps a stick of dynamite would liven up their lives,
But then again insurance rates
would surely have to rise.
It feeds the seed in me.
They live their lives in a haze,
Like rats, theyâre caught in a maze,
Of quiet desperation and obedience,
I know that Iâm just the same.
I need a chance to be free,
These darkened walls are killing me.
If I could rise above, then Iâd see,
The light beyond the trees.