Fly.

Minutes are ticking by, and we all shout out the acclamation's that we feel we are worthy of, most people are drunk tonight, crawling on the ceiling of their minds looking for their sobriety that they willingly chose to surrender, forgetting almost that they are in control of their decisions, though in this new generation the world is breeding, we won't know who is in control.

Mind or Machine, run through cobbled streets as they slowly demolish everything that we all once knew as a safety net, as an environment to thrive, rather than to perish at the hands of things we didn't know had limbs.

Spindling out of the darkness to crush us and to wrap their fiendish hands around our throats and squeeze until the satisfaction is glowing from their dirt filled pores, oily skin and beady eyes, watch as we walk streets that don't belong to us.

We no longer know whether to stay home or to fly the nest, but in reality the nest is no longer a haven, we are thrown to the wind.

~

But every song's like:
Gold teeth
Grey Goose
Tripping in the bathroom
Bloodstains
Ball gowns
Trashing the hotel room

We don't care, we're driving Cadillacs in our dreams


We're not caught up in your love affair, and we'll never be royals, it's what runs in our blood, that kind of look just ain't for us we crave a different kind of buzz. Let me be your ruler! You can call me queen B! baby i'll rule, let me live that fantasy.