paper back dreams and the constant scissors that snip at them
i may want nothing more then a simple thought come true
instead the giant fist in the sky raises its weight down upon me
no dreaming no wishes no hopes and no thoughts of it all coming true
just impalements of rules upon rules guiding this unrelished living
with choice there is consequences and in this case the hand takes its case
and really pounds me good, no movement, no growth, just punishments
its all been swiped from underneath me, i will not be given a thing
no help, no reasoning, like a prisoner ive been shamed and filtered
with a red stamp on the face no one will