i've got a pretty piece of paper
sealed in tempered glass
hanging on my wall
they told me it was a ticket
on a one way road to success
they told it was a guarantee
but what they didn't tell me:
it was a guarantee
for a life spent slaving for my own greed
cause it's really just a cog in a machine
that's killing my mother
just a bullet in a gun pointed straight at my father
just a f****** collar i get to wear
and you expect me to live like this?
til' i break my will to see another way
til' i'm tired, broken and empty just like them
how do i tell them their entire lives were wasted?
stolen from them by habit and routine
perpetuated by their desire to breed
in the end am i just a tool
just a part of their machine?
now i'm staring at my reflection
and i don't know whether to feel proud or disgusted
and you expect me to live like this:
an old and broken man who said his piece
who threw out the truth and let it die in the streets
lived a life that he didn't want
loved a wife that he'd rather have not
keeping himself company between worn and weathered sheets
a model constructed to copy and follow
prescribed lies coated, f****** easy to swallow
degrees of happiness like shades of gray
never living a life just filling a series of days
and you expect me to live like this?
and you expect me to live like this?
and you expect me to live like this.
sealed in tempered glass
hanging on my wall
they told me it was a ticket
on a one way road to success
they told it was a guarantee
but what they didn't tell me:
it was a guarantee
for a life spent slaving for my own greed
cause it's really just a cog in a machine
that's killing my mother
just a bullet in a gun pointed straight at my father
just a f****** collar i get to wear
and you expect me to live like this?
til' i break my will to see another way
til' i'm tired, broken and empty just like them
how do i tell them their entire lives were wasted?
stolen from them by habit and routine
perpetuated by their desire to breed
in the end am i just a tool
just a part of their machine?
now i'm staring at my reflection
and i don't know whether to feel proud or disgusted
and you expect me to live like this:
an old and broken man who said his piece
who threw out the truth and let it die in the streets
lived a life that he didn't want
loved a wife that he'd rather have not
keeping himself company between worn and weathered sheets
a model constructed to copy and follow
prescribed lies coated, f****** easy to swallow
degrees of happiness like shades of gray
never living a life just filling a series of days
and you expect me to live like this?
and you expect me to live like this?
and you expect me to live like this.